Thursday, December 4, 2008


I thought I was OK. I really did. I consciously had observed to myself – you’re doing OK, you don’t think about him all the time, your allegiance has shifted, you’re letting go…

And then I saw the shirt. There, in the latest of the almost daily catalogues from a desperate LL Bean. A beautiful dark red-brown plaid flannel shirt. It would be perfect for him, with his dark red-brown hair and pale skin.

I’ve seen him in shirts of this color.
I remember him in shirts of this color.
I snuggled up to him
on this very couch
while he wore a shirt of this color
and worked a cryptic crossword,
his hair red-brown and perfect
over a small contented smile.

I thought I was OK.
Then I saw the shirt.
And I started to cry.


thedirtyblonde said...

Fuck, that post got under my skin and brought a tear to my eye. Sometimes I wish for an 'off' switch and not have triggers affect me like that, but that's the price we pay for allowing ourselves to feel.


{milla} said...

But wouldn't it be a pity if you forgot. This kind of remembering is bittersweet but also a 'lovely' celebration of, yes, allowing ourselves to feel.


Paul said...

OG, yes I know that feeling well, especially during this season.
I live in the far west of England the nearest decent shopping centre is over a an hours drive away.
So I shop online and by catalogue, I see something my wife would have loved, that's all it takes, you never really get over a loss like that.
Warm hugs,

oatmeal girl said...

And he did teach me to feel, he taught me that it was safe to love again, he didn't tear me down, he opened me up - and even though it didn't go where I would have liked, we do still have each other and he keeps an eye on me and things are progressing with the thesis, and if I need to cry a few tears to have that, then so be it.

mamacrow said...

aw babe. (((hugs)))