Member-only story
He’s Still Got The T-Shirt
He’s still got the T-shirt. It’s not just one I bought for him, it’s one I made. It’s one I poured my heart into and thought about late at night. It’s one I got his opinion on time and time again till he was too frustrated to listen to me talk about it. It’s the one that I wanted to make sure was extra soft so when I leaned my cheek against his shoulder it’d be comfy.
He’s still got the T-shirt and he still wears it. I know because I saw him wearing it. I saw him eight months after he broke us from far away, wearing my design. The design that’s a piece of my heart. He still wears a piece of my heart. And the truth is, I just wish he’d have burned that shirt or had given it away. Maybe then it wouldn’t sting so bad to see other people wearing it.
***
I wonder if his new girlfriend asks about it. I wonder that when she leans her cheek against his shoulder and thinks about how soft it is, she wonders where he got it. She wonders if he bought it himself or if his mom got it for him. I wonder if he would even tell her the truth if she did ask. Because how someone got a T-shirt isn’t usually as interesting of a story as that one.
I wonder if he wears it and wonders about the girl he left behind. The girl who made him stay up so late sometimes just to talk about nothing. Or if he thinks about the times I’d pull that T-shirt…
