Worn Out

I love fiercely.  With a timeless, yet all consuming, possessive love poets write about.  Doomed to fail from the start because love can't be owned.  Hanging on the the last threads, when I know I should free myself by letting go.  But, I can't.  Even though I was worn out... 

...and so was my beloved denim shirt.

We've been together for over 8 years.  A long time in the world of apparel.  Or Hollywood.  Or really anywhere these days.  It started out as a casual affair.  Paired with chucks.  Until I realized there was so much potential for more.  We could go out together formally.  My stupid preconceived notions and fashion stereotypes of denim were holding us back.  I was afraid it was too late for us.   Because the signs of wear and tear were already showing.  

I wanted us to be the exception.  To live a lifetime, together.  We'd been through so much and traveled the world together.  We went to a bullfight in Portugal,  on safari to South Africa, out on the town in Tuscany and camping in Colorado.  That's how varied and adventurous our relationship was.  We could go anywhere together, it didn't matter what we did.  And, not to be conceited, but we looked damn good together doing it, whatever it was.

But, I wanted too much too fast like I always do.  I admit it, I was needy and clingy.  Ignoring the blatantly obvious fact that if we wanted it to last, we needed time apart sometimes.  So we didn't split at the seams.  And not just the mandatory break when laundering was required.  We needed a definitive separation to save us from the premature demise of us.

Even through the break, I wanted to stay close, which is why I buried my love in the back of my closet.  And set out on my own.  I made an effort to get back out there and flirt with others.  Sure, it was fun for a while.  I experimented with some hot, young trends even.  But, it was all pretty superficial.   And I felt like Mrs. Robinson.  Satisfied, but empty.  Leaving me longing for one my true love, who was always in the back of my mind.  And my closet.  Ailing.  

How could I have left simply because of diminishing aesthetics?  I was ashamed.  The truth was, we'd both aged, slowed down and gotten a bit worse for wear.  I needed to stop chasing perfection once and for all and realize we're imperfectly perfect for each other.  Maybe take things a bit slower this time.  Even though we're both worn out.  I hope it's not too late for us.