if I was an oversharing YouTuber I would have a video titled "Were we in love or am I autistic and my special interest is a dead girl?"....that's a joke ....because everyone on the internet claims to be autistic.

Maybe it’s the summer solstice tomorrow,

But tonight, I needed to wear your clothes—

The shirt and pants I now own. I needed

Something tangible of you. Because with

Your life so short, and our time even shorter,

I can’t remember how much I embellished—

My own memory, an unreliable narrator.

But the question always remains: how much?

This shirt, I saw you buy at the concert.

I saw you wear it. I have a photo of us,

Next to each other, smiling—you in this shirt.

That is a real memory. Nothing about it

Is overdramatic or romantic. But I kept the shirt.

Nineteen years after the concert.

And sixteen years after you died.

I even have the shirt I bought that night.

I wear them both,

In this life I’ve made—one I know

You would’ve liked.

This life I’ve had to live without you,

Except for the shirt and pants I wear right now.

Then again,

Maybe if you had lived, we wouldn’t even be friends.

My memory—the revisionist.