Smells like you

Here I sit, as I always do.

Sitting here in a shirt you washed before I left, it smells like you. Smoking a cigarette full of chemicals, thinking of you. Got some new tunes on, I seem to be finding and finding new music these days.

Everything is meant to be, happens for reasons unknown, including what we were. Including the timing of you wanting space and room to grow and change. Maybe you were afraid of becoming stagnant with me. Maybe I was stagnant.

I hate to admit it, but I'm getting off my ass a little bit. Like someone dropped a catalyst on me like a ton of bricks. I've been playing, I've been talking, I've been writing. All it took were a couple of broken hearts.

Life keeps throwing me curves. I've grown closer with people I never thought I would, I've met people that I never thought I would. This shirt smells like you. I miss you with everything in me but not like I did. I still wanna lie in bed with you and talk about the world, while you bug me that we need to get up and be productive. Talking about the world gets me thinking and I like added opinions, I'm being productive. Just not like you.

You feel you've made a mistake. I'm not so sure. You're worried, you think you won't change, you feel your soul is stagnant, but it's not. It just needs some pushes. I'm changing, life looks brighter than it ever did, if I can do this, anyone can, after all, I'm the pessimist, the cynic, the glass half empty guy that always wants it refilled but can't seem to grasp the pitcher.

This shirt smells like you.