Are You Worth Keeping?
We grow fond of certain things, don’t we.
Yunior Rivas
It was once perfect. It was a cute, soft, unassuming thing that you didn’t think twice about at first. It hugged your shoulders on cold mornings, soaked in the warmth of your body on brisk walks, and carried the scent of your days and nights.
It wasn’t remarkable to anyone, it never got any compliments, but it became truly yours. In some understated way, it earned a place in your world.
But now, the threads are loosening. The hem pulls apart at the edges in a slow, silent unraveling. There’s a hole at the cuff, small at first, but widening each time your fingers absently find it and twist.
You tell yourself it’s nothing, just a little imperfection. Everything has its quirks, after all.
Another thread flies free, trailing in the wind like a strand of discontent, and you notice how thin the fabric has become. It doesn’t hug you the way it used to. The cold seeps through in ways it never did before.
You keep wearing it because it’s familiar. The way it fit like it had been made just for you. The way it carried you through countless seasons. But with each passing day, you find yourself tugging at the frayed fibers, growing more aware of how they snag and itch.
You catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors. You see the way it hangs on you now, worn, tired, no longer what it used to be.
Is it worth keeping? Can I stitch it together, knowing the seams might split again tomorrow? Could I patch it up enough with my stubborn loyalty? Is it time to fold it away, thank it for what it’s been, and move on?
The thought of letting it go is pins and needles pricking against your skin, sharp yet numbing all at once.
The thought of replacing it is even worse. An abandonment of the thing that had your back, that kept you warm when the world was cold.
The sweater is in your hands. It’s gotten lighter but it somehow feels heavier. It’s a tangle of threads pulling in all directions.