His T-shirt

I don’t know when it became my favorite t-shirt. Not just my favorite one of his, but my favorite t-shirt overall. Over the course of our relationship, I probably had worn all of his tees as least once.  I had several at my place along with his socks, sweats, and basketball shorts, but I somehow along the way formed a special connection to this shirt.  In essence it represented who he was, and I suppose my inclination to the shirt was symbolic of wearing a representation of him.

kinda like this.

As most relationships do, ours eventually came to an end. And among the return of things that are his and what is mine, I had to depart from my favorite shirt.  It was a sad day, not because of the break up or the return of the things, but because I had to return his shirt- my favorite shirt.
As life progressed we parted cities, but not before he made sure he gave me back my, I mean his, favorite shirt. And with that thoughtfulness along with his shirt was always the possibility of more later, way later, much later down the road- but yet the possibility.  Of course, there have been other shirts since then. Some shirts I liked, others I really liked but no other shirts I have loved….no other shirts that I bonded with like I bonded with his shirt.
Well now, as I move again, I once again have to make decisions on what to take and what to leave behind. And maybe 6 months ago the shirt would have been a must-have. But now, after time I no longer to feel the need to hold on to his shirt any longer.  And I am hopeful that by leaving his shirt behind, leaves room in my dresser for a new shirt that I will love- even more than I loved his.