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As is often the case in beautiful love stories, it all began with an unexpected encounter at a mutual friend’s house who was celebrating the start of summer in her apartment. I remember seeing him arrive in the middle of the evening, jovial and self-assured. You couldn’t miss him. A mass of hair combed back, a stentorian voice, a dark complexion, piercing clear eyes, a pair of not-so-young Bermuda shorts, flip-flops and a wrinkled sky-blue shirt that was a little too open. I, who was hanging out with my friend, wondered who this UFO was that stood out among his friends in polo shirts and boat shoes.
Wise or hot shirt?
“Oh really, you think he’s sexy? Even at university, I thought he had a weird face,” she wondered. She was right, he wasn’t Brad Pitt but he had a presence. A bit like Javier Bardem, more like him. I, who was rather shy, immediately offered her a drink: “I heard you’re back from 8 years in Mexico. Tell me about it?” We spent the evening sitting on cushions, chatting, huddled together, on my girlfriend’s mini-terrace, isolated from the group that was making too much noise. I had been free as a bird for six months, it was a heatwave in Paris, it was humid and I dreamed of kissing this guy. We were carnally on the same wavelength. Butterflies in the stomach, lips sucked, it was starting strong. His shirt smelled so good!
The next day, I received a text message. He explained that he had just broken up with the woman he had come back from Mexico with and didn’t feel ready to embark on a new story, but that if I wanted to see him, it was okay. Honest guy. Disappointed, I had respected his decision. We saw each other again a few days later to visit the exhibition on primitive art that he had told me about during the evening. Again, the sky-blue shirt that smells good, the bodies that come closer and a passionate embrace between two doors. We couldn’t help but kiss.
He thrilled me like a teenager I haven’t been for a long time. How good it was… Without an apartment since his return to Paris, he moved in with me right away with three boxes, his flip-flops, his bottle of Guerlain Vetiver and his sky-blue shirt that I stole from him to wear around the house. My friends thought our relationship was too quick but I was sure it was for life. Too bad if he had trouble admitting his feelings, we were great, really great.
He made me vibrate like a teenager that I no longer am for a long time.
A torrid relationship like I have never experienced. I was shocked when 6 months later, he announced to me that he had spent the evening with his ex who had wanted to see him again before leaving for Mexico. They had made love, he was shaken but he had made the decision to join her. Before I could realize it, he had packed his bags, leaving me totally stunned.
I cried like a fountain when, a few days later, I found his sky-blue shirt in the dirty laundry basket. I first threw it in the trash before coming back to get it to throw it in a ball at the bottom of a closet and forget about it. I found it three years later while sorting through my things to move. Was it my imagination, it had kept its smell. I felt a huge wave of nostalgia, a desire to find myself in the arms of this man from whom I never heard again but whom I find hard to forget despite my current relationship which is nevertheless happy.
A brutal end and cherished memories
According to social media, he still lives in Mexico, probably far from caring about me and his shirt. I kept it on me all day, inhaling its oh-so-erotic scent. When my future husband joined me to help me put away my last boxes, I didn’t have the presence of mind to change. Since I usually dress oversized, he wasn’t surprised. He even found me very sexy in this man’s shirt. I admit that his comment made me feel guilty.
When I borrow my boyfriend’s t-shirts and leather jacket, it’s for style. When I put on “my” sky-blue shirt, it’s another intention. It’s not a neutral piece. It summons a fleeting carnal story that I secretly cherish. I was able to enjoy it incognito thanks to the fashion for wide masculine shirts. With jeans, chinos, leggings, shorts, it’s ideal.
Do you mind if I steal your man’s shirt?
Since it is very light, I have already taken it on holiday, taking care not to damage it. If there is only one hanger in the hotel room, it is for it. I was shocked when my partner found it wearing it: “Can I steal your man’s shirt?” At that point, I was so upset that he felt I was hiding something from him: “Who did it belong to?” I must have stammered and changed the subject a little too quickly.
As a delicate man, he didn’t insist but out of loyalty, I don’t dare take my shirt out as often as before. I see it every day, it’s hanging next to my dresses and I know it’s in the past. Is it cheating to keep an item of clothing from your ex? If the definition of infidelity is that you always end up getting caught, the answer is yes!
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