A few days ago, I found your shirt in my closet.

I’ll be honest, my heart burst when I saw it.

I’ve been trying to find it for a while now.

Seeing it was like finding water in a drought.

No, more like…

Seeing an old friend after years of being apart.

Waking up at 5am on the beach, just as the sun is about to rise.

Listening to your favorite song when you were 12 years old.

Re-reading your favorite book.

Coming home to your mother’s hug.

Your hug.

It brought back so many memories, good and bad.

But the pain was bearable.

The joy at seeing your shirt was not.

I remember the you before.

Who you are now is not who you were before,

And so am I.

“But you are you, and I am I.”

And that’s okay.

But I still want you to be the you who wore that shirt,

Not the you who wears polos and button downs.

I want you to be the you I fell in love with before,

The you I chose to love over and over again.

Because I don’t know who you are anymore.

And I know that’s selfish.

I know that’s unhealthy.

And I know that means I’m not ready for you.

And you are not ready for me.

We might never be ready for each other.

And that’s okay.

Because all of me will still love you,

All of me will still hold you close,

I will still wear your shirt from time to time,

And I will still feel the same joy I feel now when I see it.

You are the half of my soul.

I don’t care how far apart we are now,

In distance and in heart,

I don’t care if we don’t see each other as often as I would like,

Because even after all this time,

You still feel like coming home.

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