He wore my shirt

The afternoon was cool. The sun was held prisoner by fat black menacing clouds that suffocated every arm of its ray. The wind whipped the earth and traffic crawled in the gridlock of the afternoon commute.

And that is when I saw you. Standing in the shade and even as the wicked wind whipped your hair into disarray, I saw you raise your hand and shield your eyes. I saw you.

I saw you and I heard the stitches that held my heart together begin to tear. The first rip tore your smiling face from happier days through me. Stabbed that single memory into me. But wrenching deeper was the memory of the hand now hiding your eyes caressing my face. I saw you that day standing in the bus shed where it all started.

The sky rumbled and the clouds got darker. The rumble grew to a roar as the sky shook in anger threatening to burst the heavy clouds. The traffic continued in stalemate and I saw you head my way.

With purposeful strides your long denim clad legs moved in unison to the pounding in my ear as memories continued to burn the back of my eyes.

You wore my shirt.

Somewhere in the haze of heartache and unwanted memories my heart sang at the realisation.

He was wearing the shirt that I gave him.

The constriction in my chest was sweet pain that I am not ashamed to say I felt. My chest constricted and I forgot to breath. I held on to that memory. I held on and my broken heart began to mend.

He wore my shirt. It was all I could think of, the shirt that I gave to him on that very special day, he still wore. The shirt that created memories that kept me warm and sane when I tore it all away. I felt my heart beat again. He wore my shirt. The shirt he said he’ll cherish always.

The dank atmosphere began to light up with white hot streaks that illuminated the stagnant afternoon. The wind picked up a chill and the clouds hung to the earth pregnant with inevitable rain. And then I called his name.

My throat clogged up and again I forgot how to breathe.

You stopped.

Should I call again? I warred with myself and then you turned and smiled.

My heart soared beyond the black clouds and smiled with the imprisoned sun.

I made my way through the traffic of vehicle and people and stumbled as you stretched your hands to me. Your warm eyes banished the chill in the air and I felt the last piece of my broken heart made whole again. Brown eyes that were last dull with pain and resignation now showed love once more. The arms that I banished opened to me once more.

I dodged a lady loaded with hats for sale and almost lost my toes to an angry taxi driver in my haste to get back to your comforting embrace only to be cut off by a bus.

My impatience sizzled as the light again stabbed the clouds and haloed your beautiful smiling face. The bus finally got out of the way. The thunder clapped loudly with a fierce bolt of lightening that sliced the clouds delivering the rains.

My face upturned, I silently thanked the heavens and then I looked your way.

I felt the fissures of my heart open anew.

The silence was cut by the rumbling sky as the fissures opened wider still.

As the rain came down from the heavens in a torrent drenching me I watched you, in my shirt, give your love- my love- to another. As the rain ran off the road it took with it the pieces of my broken heart and all our love down the clogged city drain.