Back when I had longer hair, didn’t look like a pufferfish, and had a penchant for taking advantage of my early arrivals at work…
I used to help the boyfriend pick out his clothes before, only because sometimes he’d prefer to lie in bed and leave the decision making to me. Most of the times, I’d pick out a polo, one of them being the red shirt I’m wearing above. There was just something appealing about seeing my boyfriend in a rather-slouchy button down. It was structured comfort and completely unpretentious, something preferable for our casual dates at a mall.
A couple of weeks before he left for the US, he left me with the polo. And although I’d like to think it was done purely out of sentimental reasons, I know that a big part of it is attributed to his gym-approved body. I’m an “arms” person, and he took that to heart, leaving him with shirts that wouldn’t fit his muscles.
Now that he’s left, the red polo’s left hanging in my closet, taken out and worn on days that I need a pick me up by way of a comfy polo.
P.S. I miss you, Vergs. Really hoping we see each other again before the year ends. :)