Pull This Thread As I Walk Away

This is another blog from back in the Myspace days. I tweaked it a little to update it to current trends. Enjoy.

I used to have this brown sweater that I loved. It was light-weight and all around comfortable. We all have more clothes than we actually wear. God knows I do. But there are those few articles of clothing that are my favorites. This sweater was one of those items. It was my go to when I was running short on time. It was that piece of clothing that (in my mind) looked good with anything. It was warm. It was dependable. It was sexy...in a way. It saw many a debaucherous night at many seedy establishments. That sweater would have owned me if it had decided to write a tell-all. It wound up smelling of strippers, second-hand smoke and alcohol. It waited patiently on the floor of many a bedroom floor. That sweater outlasted several jobs and several girls who tried to replace it with newer, nicer sweaters. Coupled with a cabby turned backward that sweater gave me artistic merit on several occasions. It even doubled as pajamas several times when I was too tired or too drunk to take off my clothes before bed. Not only was my sweater protection from the elements, it was comfort and convenience.

Still, on one fateful day, it found its way into the bins at the Goodwill drop off. It still had some life left in it. True, it was picked and worn in spots, but not past its prime by any means. It was just time to move on, I thought. I'd give anything to have that sweater back now. I stand and look through my closet from time to time and wonder what happened to all my favorite clothes. Now all I see are clothes that fit different rolls in my life. Polos for work, button-ups for church, long sleeves for winter, short sleeves for summer, tank tops for the gym, but still I don't have that go to article. Sure my light blue Gap t-shirt is a close substitute, but my sweater played far too many rolls to have out lasted its usefulness. Maybe some day I will enter Old Navy, walk to the mark downs and find a comparable fit. But it will not be the same. Sure the style, the cut, the fit may be the same but the fibers will not have bonded with my soul the way my old friend from back in the day had. The next time I buy a forty of beer I'll remember to pour some on the ground as a memorial to the brown sweater that saw me through so many misadventures and shared so many stories in my life. Who knows maybe MTV will give me and my sweater a reality show about our reunion. Hey, it'd be more realistic than Jersey Shore.