Worn, seasoned jeans is the most comfortable thing in the world after a grandmother's warm embrace and reassuring words. It is a safe choice, it is true and it is follows through, in spite of your most torrential weight fluctuations or worst pimple outbreaks.
How can I not remember the first time I laid eyes on you? It was 2006, at One Utama that I went for jeans hunting with Papa. You gave me the fluttery, butterfly-in-the-tummy sensations people get when they meet something they really desire, and something they knew would be the best thing that could happen to them. It was a fit! All I needed to do was get your length altered at Uptown and an inspiring love affair began soon after.
You saw me through my best days. You saw me through my worst bad-hair days. You saw me through my saddest moments or loudest experiences. You served me selflessly through my stint in conservative INTEC by accompanying me on my countless dates with S, on my 24/7 Calculus-studying at Starbucks with K, on my pasar-malam trips with the six-pack. You were always my choice for movie trips and open houses with KYS buddies. I am sure you will not forget carrying Yaya nor her spits and her pen scribblings on you. Ayell never really got to know you, but I'm sure you'll never forget how tiny he was when he was born.
Most importantly, I am glad that you have gotten to see your fair share of this Land of the Free called America. We both have seen much and experienced aplenty here. I'm sure you love Chicago and New York City as much as I do, and I still feel pangs of remorse that I did not take you with me to San Francisco and the roadtrip I went on last year.
Albeit I may have shortchanged you many times for that $3.99 jeans I purchased at Charlotte Ruse, or that unbelievably cheap, genuine Roxy jeans from Bandung, or your two Levi's half-sisters, skinny jeans black and gray, or my new penchant for leggings; you should know that you were my true love. There is only so much skinny jeans can do by looking great with boots, but you gave me faith in myself by looking so great on me always. I thank you endlessly for that.
Now that time has taken its toll and the many number of washes have eaten you up as they see fit, I guess it is time I accept that we bid farewell. I do not have the heart to physically throw you out--like I did to your older, bootleg-cut of a stepsister--but I'll be seeing you less and less. May we meet again at place where all jeans, things, friendships and relationships go untainted, unspoilt and forever ready to make someone happy.
p/s: If this is just about a pair of jeans, why do I feel so empty?
When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran
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