i have decided i no longer want my jacket back. the one with no sleeves and the handmade back patch that i liked to wear over hoodies - you can keep it.
not that i don't miss my jacket, because i do. the louis theroux patch with iron-on backing... the only somewhat ironic high school musical pin... the hand-stitched ***** division pink triangle... it was a ******* cool jacket. but i no longer want it back.
when i left my jacket hanging on your wardrobe door we both thought i'd see you soon, but that was last june and november's creeping round. you're a college kid now. your family packed up and left, and i guess i'm fine with that because i no longer want my jacket back.
i will no longer send you passive-agressive messages on facebook, kik, or whatsapp asking for my jacket back. when my friends offer to send you vaguely threatening emojis conveying that they may or may not be willing to throw hands for my jacket, i will say no.
sometimes i fantasise about what might have happened to my jacket. i imagine your mother, pragmatic as always, throwing away every trace of me remaining post-break up. i picture you in a fit of rage hacking my hard work to pieces. i doubt that you took it to new york with you, but somehow that's the scenario i like the least.
sometimes i think how if i had never met you i would now own 25% more jackets. but, had i never met you, i would also own 30% fewer pyjama shirts, several less ****** hang-ups, and 2 fewer stamps in my passport.
what i'm saying is no matter what you did with it, i forgive you for not mailing it when you promised to. and i forgive me for leaving it in the first place. i no longer want my jacket back, because it probably wouldn't be the same anyway.
i have been moaning about my ex not returning my jacket to me for over a year now. i guess writing a poem means i'm finally over it?