I find you folded perfectly in my drawer, just the way I left you. I gently pull you out, and wash you with delicate soaps because it's your season, girl!
My favorite hoodie: You're my favorite color (sea foam); you have a transitional hood meaning I could use you as a hoodie, or a scarf, or I don't have to, either way, you're adorable.
Let me tell you how often I think of you.
Every morning, when I'm pulling on my work clothes, I'm really counting down the hours until I can pull my hoodie back on.
In the middle of the day, when I catch a slight chill or I simply cannot shake off the office freeze, I dream about my hoodie. How warm you'd feel; how cozy you'd feel.
In the evening, when I'm attending an event and have to wear a fancy cocktail dress with dress, I imagine your fuzzy comfort.
I appreciate your non-judgmental and unconditional love. You don't care if I'm eating a half-gallon of ice cream (or even if I continue on and finish the entire gallon). You don't care if I've spent an entire day in zombie mode: no shower, oily hair, mismatched socks, Netflix marathon.
You're kind and you're loving. You're faded and fuzzy because I've watched you so many times. You've shared many memories with me: fun fall events, breakups, rollercoaster rides, horror-movie nights.
You're here for me and I'm thankful.
