My bed is crowded: security blanket and a dirty shirt

My boyfriend is far away. Not that far away, but far enough away for me to feel sorry for myself. Sigh. I better go smell his dirty undershirt I stole.

My mom asks me,

“Does he know you took it?”

Yes he does. I stole it and then I told him,

“I took one of your dirty undershirts, is that okay?”

“Sure. Why?”

“It smells like you. I like it.”

He takes the shirt, holds it up to his face and takes a big whiff. He nods his head. He seems to understand. I offer,

“Do you want something of mine? Underwear?”

“No thanks. I’ll let you know if I see a pair I want.”

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