Wrap Me Up

I have this sweater. It's dark green, knitted, 100% cotton. Zippered. Hooded. A size small, with sleeves so long that I've always folded the cuffs back.

I think -- and I can't be certain, but I think -- I've had this sweater since my middle school days. So basically, I've owned and worn it for around a decade. Yikes, right? But even though I wouldn't say it's in absolute, perfect condition, I would argue that it doesn't look all that bad for what it's been through with me. Which, when I think about it, is a veritable ton.

High school. College. Sickness. Books. Movies. Flights. Nasty winters. Road trips. Quarrels with friends and lovers. First dates. Break-ups. Projects and papers. General rule-breaking and mayhem. Parties. Deaths. Photos. Holidays. Concerts. Moves. Vacations. Jobs. Perfect days. Perfectly terrible days. Singing and dancing and laughter.

Maybe it seems silly to go on about a sweater like this, but the thing has been around me for so long now that there's something very comforting about it. When I put it on, it's the next best thing to a hug from any one of my closest friends, all who have experienced so much with me and know me so well, but live so far away. And that is certainly welcome from time to time.

Photo by Sway Sovay