Your shirt went out without you the other day.
I saw it in the city on another man.
They seemed quite close.
I don't tell you this to hurt you, you understand, I just thought you should know.
They were walking together down the street and every now and then the man would glance at the reflection of the shirt in the shop windows they were passing and he would duck his head and smile.
They looked quite sweet as they strolled along, their arms swinging, his fingers curled around the ends of your shirt's cuffs.
If someone walked too closely by, the man would pull his arms in to his body, holding the shirt safely to him until the danger had passed.
They ate together in a cafe, the man tenderly brushing crumbs from the shirt's collar for it, and smiling with rueful sympathy when the shirt got a touch of coffee on its sleeve.
You might wonder why I'm going into such detail when I claim I'm not trying to hurt you.
Well the thing is... they saw me looking at them and together they smiled, the young man invited me to join their table and as we drank our coffees he reached over and the shirt brushed my hand with its sleeve.
I'm seeing the two of them again this weekend, hopefully one day you'll forgive me...
I just thought you should know...