*Fade

Last night I missed you.

After months of locking you up in the corner of my mind it’s funny how our senses cheat us dragging us back to square one,
How the musty blend of Lavender and wood shavings and Armani and 'boy'  can make you want to puke your guts out.

I found that sweatshirt you had left behind, the one with the Lakers emblazoned on it in faded gold, the one I wore when we walked through the rain and you kissed me, the one that smells of you---but then again, it smells of me too.

It’s seen a lot, this sweatshirt.

It’s lived through Indian summers shooting hoops, tints of ice cream, stolen moments of promiscuity, make-a-move movies in the dark, long winter nights, late whispered phone calls, crying girlfriends, drunken moments, plastic promises, loneliness, shattered dreams, hope, fights, hugs where you say ‘forever’ and believe it, love lost...

And then her.

Out with the old, in with the new na na na na naa naaaa
Do your stupid dance, shoot your hoops, flash your abs
No one's watching.
I know I'M not.

Liar liar

I sat there holding it to me and I let the tears melt into the fabric till all that was left was a small dark stain.

It could have been blood, it could have been water.

But then I laughed.

Cause she’s missing out on one damn good sweatshirt!