I pull his t-shirt out of my dirty laundry basket and put it on. I slept in it that first week after things changed so it needs a good wash. But I don't care. I'm off to take a nap and I want to pretend that today is actually 3 weeks ago and he's going to call me in a couple hours to plan dinner and tell me he can't wait to see me.
I climb into bed and snuggle his sweater that I've had since the concert in my arms, and pretend it still smells like him.
Before my eyelids droop I tell myself that if this was all over I wouldn't still have these things.
My heart rests for a minute with that hope and I finally drift off.
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