"The Coatmakers."

I once had

a coat that I loved

more than anything else

I owned.

It was perfect

in every way.

And so I wore it

every day of every winter

for years.

My other coat

languished in the closet,

but my heart was taken.

As I noticed it fraying

at the wrists and elbows,

it pained my little heart.

I hadn't looked hard,

but I knew

there was no coat like it

in this world.

This coat

was my only exception.

.

.

.

When last winter ended,

I decided I had to let it go.

Summer came and went,

and then fall came.

One day,

we were shopping,

and I saw a coat.

I fell in love with it

instantly.

I tried it on right there.

It was perfect in every way--

too expensive,

and in a store

whose quality I questioned.

But it was perfect.

I bought it.

And I have worn it

every day.

.

.

.

Yesterday,

call me crazy,

but I took my old coat

out of the closet

and put it on.

It was the strangest feeling.

I loved this coat?

So much

that I thought

I could never love

another coat

ever again?

It suddenly seemed

so uninspired.

It was still

a nice coat,

to be sure.

And it still felt natural

to love it.

But the me that loved it

isn't the same me

that wakes up every morning

and goes to sleep every night.

That me is gone.

Now I can't decide

whether it's sad

or surprisingly freeing

to realize

that I will someday

love another coat

more than I love

the one I have now.

(This is a metaphor.)

This isn't

an actual picture

of either of the coats.