It was only supposed to be a fling. A quickie. A rebellious act for her as she disregarded everything her mother ever told her. It wasn’t supposed to last. But she was approaching the two year mark and still hadn’t put an end to it.
It was only a sweater. Just a normal cashmere sweater like all the rest. There was no need for her to feel this attached. It wasn’t like they were going to stay together forever. It would probably move on to some other girl in no time at all, which, she didn’t want to admit, would leave her heart broken.
She decided to make the breakup go as quick as possible. There would be no time to explore the soft and supple blue fabric between her hands. If she wanted to go through with it, she needed to do it now. As she picked up the sweater, she reminded herself of its faults. She couldn’t be with something that came with a dry clean only tag! That required a serious level of commitment.
She told her sweater about the second thoughts she was having. In response, it wrapped her into its warm embrace and whispered in her ear, “Forget the tag. I can also be hand-washed with a delicate soap.”
She let the words sink in, almost giving in, until she remembered all the bad things her mother had warned her about many years ago. “But what about moth holes?!”
“You can wrap me up in cedar or mend me with some thread.”
“I don’t know.” she shook her head while she paced around the room.
“Do you love me?” Her sweater asked.
“Of course I love you! That’s the problem. I love everything about you. Your thin knit that manages to keep me warm on the coldest days, the way you drape across my body sending tiny soft kisses all over me.” She walked back over to the sweater so that they were face to
face fabric. “But, you’re complicated…” She trailed off, hoping it would interrupt her and tell her she was wrong. But nothing happened. Instead a silence fell between them as they both continued to look at one another.
“I know,” the sweater finally said. “I know I come with a lot of baggage. I know you’re mother always warned you about choosing a sweater like me, someone who would shrink in the dryer and end up breaking your heart, but I love you. And I’m willing to do everything that I can to make this work. Do you believe me?”
With tears in her eyes, she nodded. “I love you, and I’ll never let you go” she said and wrapped the sweater in her arms as her tears began to fall.
“I love you too,” it said, “but be careful because you know I don’t do well with water.”
Favorite Cashmere Picks:
Comment Questions: What’s your favorite type of fabric? And what’s the one fabric you can’t stand? For me, it’s viscose. It wrinkles way too easily, plus I hate ironing!