That Black Shirt

The way your eyes lit up when I put on that black shirt, and when you told me I looked so great in it, made me think I looked my best in that shirt. I would put it on and stare at myself in the mirror, thinking of when your hands were wrapped around my waist and your eyes were staring into mine. I wore it a lot, for you. I still wear it a lot, hoping you’ll notice me in it. “What Vodka couldn’t do to her, that my black shirt did.”

I never knew how beautiful a soul could be. I never really understood the concept of loving someone for everthing they are and not just loving the parts I liked. I never knew how attached I could become to another person. I never knew it was possible to find myself in another person. I never knew the importance of showing appreciation or recieving it. I never knew just how much one person could make such a huge difference in my life until the day I met you. As cliche as it sounds I have to admit you are different but a good kind of different you make the impossible, possible.

You’re everywhere. Everyday. Your name is the only definition of every feeling I have ever felt. Every feel you leave with your touch is rooted beneath my skin. I feel light tremors when your hands are close to mine. The times you didn’t realize and your shoulder touches mine makes me feel how familiar my blood is to your warmth.

The moment you hold my hand to stop me, instead freezes the world in front of my eyes. Your strong hands wrapped around my waist, so tight that I can’t get any more closer to you, makes me realize that pain can be sweet too. The way your fingers play with my teardrop reflect your bit of life attached to my heart. I am in love with the musky smell of your neck which only I can feel, because no one else has been close to you the way I have been.

~ Siddhant

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