I cried real tears when my first pair of favorite jeans got an irreparable hole in an unfortunate spot. Ahem. There are only so many places you can put a patch.
There have been a lot of favorite jeans since that first pair and each time I must part with the buttery-soft denim and their perfect fit, my heart breaks a little. The loss of something familiar, even after it has become unrecognizable, torn and ratty, is not easy for me to do. I have no desire to forego comfort for something shinier.
I like being comfortable. I like flannel shirts and furry socks. I like snuggling. Everyone likes to be comfortable, right? Not necessarily.
Some people need to feel itchy in their skin. They need constant movement, exploring unknowns, and excitement. And, while I am looking forward to new adventures, I still prefer them with a heavy side of fireplace, old movie, dogs at my feet, and a pot pie in my belly.
Unknowns make me feel tormented, scared, and a little bit crazy. I don’t like getting new cars, I hate the idea of moving, or the kind of exhilaration people get when they buy new things. I like the feel of old jeans, worn and broken-in in all the right places.
Irreparable holes be damned.