I remember having brought it before few years after Christmas time. I didn’t go out searching for something in particular, I even didn’t need it when I took it at that time. But, when I saw it, there is a sudden craving in me and small little voice in me was whispering to get it right now before it was too late. That’s the story how I purchased my favorite pullover, like many other things on a whim. However, little did I know how special it would be for me when I brought it.
We have had so many memories together, like I can’t even count them on my hands’ fingers.
Going back in time when it was summer and I was making a stroll in the beach, with a lover or potential one, wearing it. It was chilly evening and I got start to fill the cold wind playing with my hair. My companion offered his jacket, but I declined politely saying that I have something on my own. I just took out from my bag the sweater and filled the warm around me. I remember only the sea, how the waves were crashing around, fighting each other for supremacy before disappearing in a form of a foam. The streets were busy with people, the street lamps illuminated the darkness, there was such a buzz around, such frenzy in such a lovely night. It was one of these nights when you want to merge with the crowd instead standing out of it, when the life of the people pour esinto the city’s veins.
What about the time when I was with a friend, having together a laugh, despite not having seen each other in a long term, how the moment we met the distance of the time vanishes immediately into the tin air. Then we would watch some silly TV comedy for millions of times like before, eating too much French fries and popcorn.
The time took its toll in the end, my pullover was not in its prime, there is a place where a thread was coming out of the fabric, but I didn’t mind as long as it’s cozy inside of it. Especially the times when my grandmother would wake me up with the aroma of ready-made pancakes coming from the kitchen. The hot milk and the jam of strawberry were waiting for me in the kitchen table in the cold December morning and I would just nestle up in my pullover and pajamas listening to my grandmother’s nagging to eat one more of her pancakes.
You can see I don’t easily get attach to things, but this pullover holds all the coziness of the world and smells just like home.
Write with Joy 