the shirt on my back

I often still speak of Scott as if he were still alive. My therapist says that I am still in denial at times that he's gone. While I do not do it often, it does happen. You sometimes think that he's going to call or he's in the bathroom, just like normal. It doesn't happen to me a lot, but it does happen and it's always a weird feeling. I find myself saying "oh yeah, he's not here." He will never be here. He is gone forever.

What I have is my memories with him. The memories outweigh the tangible objects. 

I got rid of some OLD clothes/shoes, but nothing that I attached a memory to, well maybe some things like shorts/swimming trunks, but they were things that I wouldn't wear and let's be honest I had to donate/sell some stuff because I don't have room for everything. I sometimes regret getting rid of anything, but know that I have to. It's part of this process. I cannot hold onto those things, I would rather hold onto my feelings of him and memories. 

I wore his clothes today, a black button up shirt and a baby blue, rubber belt. It felt good. I felt like he was on me. It's nice that we can share clothes. Granted, it was a little baggy, but with a belt, it's all good. Plus, he was so skinny when he did his last shopping trip in LA, that everything fits me. I've acquired all his clothes. I wear them proudly. They make me smile because he loved them. He was my shopping partner and our last trip to LA was when we got engaged, so the clothes he bought on that trip are even more memorable. I will have those forever.