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Don't wear out your partner's clothes...
She loved me. She dumped me. Did she love me? Why then did she leave me, and cast me aside like a dirty old shoe? Was I just the hat on the shelf that looked pretty for a while, until it got out of style and out of date. I never changed all that much, and this was because I thought she loved me for who I was. I was the rugged jacket on the rack, the one that was simple and plain, but proud to be what it was. But she painted me with tears, she painted me with the painful memories of my childhood, and let me unzip the feelings from the plaid lining inside of me. She untied the deepest emotions from the seat of my soul. She wore me for over three years, and wore me out, out of date, out of style, out of love. Was I just the Sunday dress, that would only be worn once, for one short day? Was I the pair of pants, that only looked good in certain lights, giving pleasure to the lovliest girl in the world, but only until she could wear me no longer? Was I the shirt that fit well once long ago? Why did she leave me behind on the roadside, with no where to go as though I was watch that quick ticking. Cast away into the ditch, like a piece of litter. I am the clothing that wants to be loved for being what I am, and not painted anymore with hopes or dreams. I am the clothing that wants to be worn by the loveliest woman in the world. I am the clothing that wants to be worn by her, even if I don't fit her just right anymore. I am the clothing, that doesn't want to be cast aside.