Inhaling again
His shirt still smells like him.
It lives under the covers of our bed, wadded up to preserve the smell as much as possible.
I have two or three others in the closet in plastic bags should the smell fade, but this is the shirt he wore the night before he left.
It has held up to many a sleepless night, many tears, many silent prayers in his absence.
I can't wait to give it back to him. ![]()
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I think maybe I'll wash it first ...
