I wore your shirt to work today.

It's not too loose, not too tight. It's perfect, just like you were, before the lies. 

It smells of you, your kisses, your caresses, your affectionate way of moving the strands of hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ears, your grabbing my fingers with yours when we walked. 

When I need to be enveloped by you, I wear your tee. I needed it today, because I'm willing to admit that despite everything that happened this past weekend, I still love you Bubba. 

What does that make me?