Obituary:

Here Lies my Favorite Shirt

Today I wore an outfit that I’ve worn before to do something I’ve never done.

These familiar routines underscore new experiences, “Yeah I was wearing this shirt” or “I ordered the usual from that place we used to go to.”

Like portkeys in Harry Potter, our closets or a smooth rock from that one beach teleport us to new and familiar places. Sucking us into memories we didn’t know we still had.

I saw someone in a setting I’d never seen them in, I was wearing the same outfit I wore to that birthday party a year ago.

Holes consumed the bottom of my shirt, too close in proximity to stay independent of each other another year.

But when it finally fell apart my memories did not, and my shirt sat in a garbage bin somewhere. Wasting away.

But I’ll remember that shirt.

Because I wore it to a hospital once, and a birthday party, on a first date and an anniversary.

So rest in pieces, I’m going to Target.

I need a new memory.