Who knew that a jacket with so many holes and so much damage could be so warming, could make me feel so safe. Who knew that the scent of the fabric, the essence of the fibers, the dull color of the fluffy material could feel so familiar. So comforting. So soft.

Stretched, baggy, oversized, but opposite of its feeling. This jacket is worn by someone who loves it, who cherishes the tattered holes and the broken zipper and the bunched up sleeves. This jacket is a jacket like no other, because it is his jacket, and he loves me just as he loves this old jacket.

This jacket and I share lots of things in common. We were once shiny and new, ready to warm hearts and create smiles with our looks and charm. This jacket and I have faded much over time, from being used for so long and having been accidentally damaged many times. Me and this jacket, we both love the same someone. We both want to warm that someone and make them feel as they make us feel: cherished and loved.

We hold hands, I and this someone, we hold hands and we tuck our interlaced fingers into the oversized pocket of his jacket as we stumble to where we need to go, laughing all the while. I hug him, this someone and his jacket. I kiss him, this someone and his jacket. I wear this someone's jacket and I feel so comforted, because I know that I am surrounded by love and finally, finally I can share so much with someone so important to me.

He giggles his ugly-cute giggle when he sees me in this jacket. He calls me small in the oversized fabric, and I always deny the adjective, but it is my favorite adjective and he knows that very much.

I and this jacket share many things with our beloved someone.

.:.