I didn't realize it was sweater weather,
In mid-July, in the center of the summer.
It never did make sense to me;
Why would you put yourself through suffering?
Those long, drapey sleeves that fall past your fingers,
Of those soft, lovely hands that I often try to hold,
But when I do, you pull away like I'm contagious with the flu,
And I feel ashamed.
One day, when it wasn't sweater weather,
I took matters into my own hands.
I bounded over, a devious grin on my face,
And did something I'd soon regret.
I pulled up those sleeves,
Insisted that you'd get far too hot,
And what I found was a secret,
Across your arm, in spots.
You pulled away from me,
Hurt evident in your eyes.
You yelled at me,
But I was still surprised.
You said, "I hate you!"
And then walked away.
That's the last time I saw you,
At least for several days.
When the fall arrived, along with sweater weather,
I gently meandered to your home.
Whether you wanted me there or not,
I wouldn't let you be alone.
Your mother let me in,
Said that you'd never left your room,
So I walked up the stairs,
My heart breaking in two.
I opened the door,
And before you got the chance to do,
What you felt like you deserved to do,
I stopped you.
I held your hands, and you didn't pull away,
I leaned my head against your shoulder.
Tears streamed like a torrent had burst free,
My heart, crushed by a boulder.
I looked into your eyes, as you did mine,
And we talked, really talked, for the first time,
Since I can remember...
I stood outside your window, wearing a sweater,
The one that you got me, that I'll keep forever.
I saw the smile on your face, barely contained.
You came outside and hugged me, so earnestly.
Now that it was sweater weather,
We could weather the storm,
Together...
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 10:01 PM UTC
I didn't realize it was sweater weather,
In mid-July, in the center of the summer.
It never did make sense to me;
Why would you put yourself through suffering?
Those long, drapey sleeves that fall past your fingers,
Of those soft, lovely hands that I often try to hold,
But when I do, you pull away like I'm contagious with the flu,
And I feel ashamed.
One day, when it wasn't sweater weather,
I took matters into my own hands.
I bounded over, a devious grin on my face,
And did something I'd soon regret.
I pulled up those sleeves,
Insisted that you'd get far too hot,
And what I found was a secret,
Across your arm, in spots.
You pulled away from me,
Hurt evident in your eyes.
You yelled at me,
But I was still surprised.
You said, "I hate you!"
And then walked away.
That's the last time I saw you,
At least for several days.
When the fall arrived, along with sweater weather,
I gently meandered to your home.
Whether you wanted me there or not,
I wouldn't let you be alone.
Your mother let me in,
Said that you'd never left your room,
So I walked up the stairs,
My heart breaking in two.
I opened the door,
And before you got the chance to do,
What you felt like you deserved to do,
I stopped you.
I held your hands, and you didn't pull away,
I leaned my head against your shoulder.
Tears streamed like a torrent had burst free,
My heart, crushed by a boulder.
I looked into your eyes, as you did mine,
And we talked, really talked, for the first time,
Since I can remember...
I stood outside your window, wearing a sweater,
The one that you got me, that I'll keep forever.
I saw the smile on your face, barely contained.
You came outside and hugged me, so earnestly.
Now that it was sweater weather,
We could weather the storm,
Together...
