Dear Boyfriend Sweater,

When the weather gets colder I love taking you off the shelf and unfolding you. I remember buying you at the Gap: a clearance priced men’s sweater, perfectly over-sized. I called you my Boyfriend Sweater. Because if I had a boyfriend and if he had a sweater, this is the one I would steal. You are one of the most comfortable things I have ever owned, even though your sleeves are about an arm length too long. And you’re sort of getting ratty. But I stand by you. Friends might say, “Oh, you’ve had that thing for years!” But I will not waiver in my devotion.

Every once in a while I’ll check out possible replacements, but I just can’t do it. I just wanted to let you know.

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2 Responses to Dear Boyfriend Sweater,

  1. pirateslutwench says:

    Thank you for that bittersweet and thought provoking mini essay. When travelling alone, or so it often seems, down a dark and treacherous road during a storm without the benefit of headlights, it just seems easier to pull off the road along the coast, watch the waves tumble over the moonlit rocks and ride the storm out. As the night hours bring a chill to the air, I look for that sweater, pull it out and put in on comforted by the warmth, and drift into a carefree sleep. As the morning sun shines on the beach, I awake in a haze, dehydrated and blurry eyed, I see the last of the wild horses far down the sparkling beach, searching a place to get out of the hot sun and off the hot rocks along the shore. Drenched in sweat, I decide to the sweater has got to go. Without much thought, I rip the sweater off, throw it to the far rear of the car, disgusted with the realities that I must deal with alone. I can’t get the airconditioning in the car to work and it looks like its gonna be a scorcher! I wish the shawdow of the silloette that once filled the sweater had not left me alone and betrayed and on the hottest day of the year without a good working. That wasn’t the worst of it, however, while I was sleeping, I must have tossed and turned in exhaustion, for when I awoke, I must have looked like a circus act. I’m not sure if I survived the steering wheel and gear shift, it certainly was uncomfortable. If only I hadn’t been so curious and purchased those tickets for the freak shows. Who knew I would try to run away with the carny’s? I do love funnel cakes though. Oh well, no one is perfect, I certainly know I’m not. I do so wish to make it to my destination and with the help of my GPS, perhaps I will. The boyfriend sweater, while it did comfort me at times, was somehow lost at the beach. I heard there had been pirates lurking about, there were rumours and reports of rape, robbing, and pillaging. Oh yeah, my boyfriend was a pirate. I guess I may be one too. He was from the Keys and myself, the OBX. No worries Matie!

    • pirateslutwench says:

      For these pirates had parted ways almost as soon as partners they made and now they ask “parlay”. The pirate ship was sunk, and they were forced to the shore to work long and gruelling hours to save for another boat. All the free time they had they spent living the wild pirate life but only on the shore. I desired to settle down, give up the pirate life, settle down on the peaceful shore. But the pirate partner still wanted to chase the dreams of the pirate life singing pirate songs, chasing wenches, and celebrating debauchery all the night long. Party on Pirate!

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