I recently started a relationship with an incredibly nice man. He was kind, semi-attractive, and was as nerdy as I (maybe even more so considering he learns Linux in his downtime). Unfortunately, he was moving back to a faraway place called Pennsylvania a week after our romance began. This made our times together more intense than most couples; we had brief moments to get to know eachother extremely well. We had to cram normal couplings, dates and random conversations about favorite foods, comics and pet peeves into just a few days. Yes, I know people do this on vacation all the time. They meet some foxy lothario and, after just 2 days, feel as if they have met their match. Then they board the plan and forever keep that memory in their hearts.

Goodbye beautiful, foreign person I loved for 72 hours. We shared so many pizzas. I’ll always cherish that!

Well, I’m not good at memories. In fact, most memories I have are actually self-made and never actually occurred anywhere except my head. Literally every time I mention something I once did or saw, my oh-so-helpful sister reminds me that that was a movie, a dream or that it was her who did the thing. In short, I could not rely on memory alone to feed my romance with him. I needed continuing communication to really assure me this thing was real. We’ve chatted, Skyped, Voxed, and texted our brains out for two weeks. I mentioned my fondness for written letters (my grandmother and I write to one another even now). He said that he could definitely write me something. I hoped he wasn’t a terrible speller (I’m a bit of a grammar nazi at times).

Monday rolls around. I had a somewhat shitty day but there is a package on the table for me ( I still get excited whenever I receive packages. Maybe it’s that Christmas day feeling all over again but I love it). Of course It’s from him. Inside, he has given me a DVD I love (House of Flying Daggers) and a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

I was a little perplexed. Am I supposed to join a basketball team? Why did he send such a random assortment of items? Don’t get me wrong, I love men’s clothing. I still buy most of my t-shirts in the men’s department (apparently men are the only people who like wearing Batman shirts) and I’ve even bought some jeans every once in a while because of my height. Am I a cross dresser? No. I don’t even wear men’s clothing to bed.

To further confuse me, after telling him I have received his package, he wants me to send a photo in the outfit. I understand him missing me, my face and all that, but how will putting on his shirt help my retreating memories of him? It doesn’t smell like him. It doesn’t have his face on it. I can’t say that I understand the point one bit.

Well for one thing, I know how God feels : The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman’s garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God- Deuteronomy 22:5, KJV.

Yep, you’re going straight to hell, you girlish barbarian!

So that already puts me at a loss. I haven’t been able to get him to explain this phenomenon to me yet. I know people wear the clothing of lovers they miss because of their scent or maybe it makes them feel surrounded by their love. I just feel like Shaquille O’Neal. And I don’t even get the mustache.

Just so you know I’m not a heartless bitch, I will be sending a picture in the clothes to him. I’ve always been an understanding person, if the picture makes him horny or happy or whatever, I will gladly send it. Will I be wearing this shirt around everywhere and waiting for some romantic storm of emotion to overtake me? No. But I may send him something and demand he wear it. Wonder if he can fit my prom dress….


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