Once i have everything collected, I take a
long look at my room. I never realized how
much of him I had lying around. It feels so
empty now. Like there's a void in the air.
Like something missing.I take a few deep
breaths before I grab the box and leave my
room. it's the first time this week I
managed to get out of bed before noon. I
only make two steps out the door before
I realize I forgot something. I set the box
down and turn back to get it. Inside my
closet is Sam's denim jacket. The one with
the wool collar and embroidered patches
(band logos and flags of places he's
traveled) along the sleeves that he ironed
on himself. I've had it for so long, and wear
it so often, I forgot it was his.
I pull the jacket from the hanger. The
denim feels cold to the touch, almost damp
Like it's still holding in rain from the last
time I wore it out.
*Sam and I race down puddle field streets
as burst of lightning lit up the sky. It is
pouring on our way home from the
screaming trees concert. I pull the jacket
over my head as Sam holds his signed
guitar tight to his chest, desperate to keep
it dry. We waited three hours outside for the
band's lead singer, Mark Lanegan, to come
out and hail his taxi.*
"I'm so glad we waited" Sam shouts.
"But we're soaked!"
" Don't let a little rain ruin our night! "
" you call this a little?"
Out of everything I'm throwing out, this
reminds me of him the most. He wore it
everyday. Maybe it's all in my head, but it
still smells like him. I never got the chance
to give it back like I promised. I press the
jacket against me. For a moment, I could
shove it in the back of rhe closet, hide it
beneath my coats or something. It seems
like a waste to throw out a perfectly nice
jacket, regardless of whom it once belong
to. But then I catch a glimpse in the mirror
and come back to myself.
My hair unbrushed, skin more pale than
usual, wearing yesterday's shirt, cradling
Sam's jacket like it's still a part of him.
A chill of embarrassment goes through me,
and I look away. Keeping it would be a
mistake. Everything has to go, or else I'll
never be able to move on with my life.
I shut the closet door and hurry back out
before I change my mind.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I find my
mother leaning over the sink, staring out
of the window. It's sunday morning, so
she's working from home. The bottom step
creaks under my foot.
A/N- ipag paumanhin ko guys kung maliliit lang yung na uupload ko every page lang kasi yung kinukuha ko kasi mahirap mag type and every day ako mag uupload wait for the next page..... enjoy reading