The last smell of his shirt before I wash and return it via a friend...

The call of another friend: "Hey--I heard--are you doing okay? I didn't want to ask you with the others around..."

Why is it that I go through days of unfeeling despite the concerns of friends who know me better--and these are what make me cry?

It appears that if I cry enough, my nose stuffs up--and then I'm unable to smell his shirt anyway. Into the laundry it goes. Cleansing, in multiple ways...