top of page

Spring Cleaning

Manifesting spring weather since Florida decided to just skip straight to summer...


Loving you used to fit so well. It was tailor-made, you hit my shoulders at the edges and my waist and it felt right. But for whatever reason, this article of clothing was tossed aside, stuck in a drawer to be found again when I was looking for stray buttons or swimming goggles. I’d pick you up like a faded baseball cap or a cheap metal necklace, I’d put on the feeling and smile because you still fit. Maybe the sleeves were a little long, or the chest was a little too tight, but you still fit. And on cold nights, when shivering got to be too much and nothing else seemed to be within reach, I could warm myself with you.

It’s not winter, but I felt a chill today. I reached for you again, I put my hands across your folds and tried to figure out how to wear you during a cold front. But no matter how many times I flipped the clothing over, recalling how I used to wear your threads, how I used to style you in a way that looked designer, it never came to me. Too big and too small, outgrown or overthrown, I’m not sure. It’s shocking, after years of reaching for the same comfort, to find that I’ve changed too much to wear it.

It’s progress, I suppose. I stare at the folds and try to remember their warmth, feel you against a bare heart, but nothing comes. There’s no fear, no comfort, I love you as much as I love my middle school t-shirts. Graphic relics of clubs, sports teams my friends used to play on, memories I should convert into a throw blanket because they take up too much room in my closet.

It’s exposing, almost, I’ve always had this sweater to turn to and now I reach into empty drawers. But, just maybe, this is what spring cleaning is for. The empty begs to be filled, and for once, I’m ready to take on the folds of a sweater that fits better than you have for several seasons.

Comments


Cups of Coffee_edited.jpg
bottom of page