That darn blue dress. She hangs low these days and even though we’ve not worn her for many moons she still remembers so many things; what it was like to twirl, kiss and be kissed, take a chance, to feel loved and adored, to feel betrayed and broken, I think the last time I wore you I felt all of these things.
I wore you and those perfect pockets all summer all those summers ago. You always showed just enough, not too much sex but just enough to wet some whistles. I believe you cost me less than $20, one of my more sustainable true loves.
I wore you to work with all of those men, they may have seen the curves but I wore that dress deeply in love, fortunes fool but still only he saw under you; hands slipping up my waist the small of my back tattooed and only for your eyes. Slipping those callused hands up the side of my thigh, the blue dress knew you so well. Now I look you in my closet and I see all the shades, you were a sort of power for me and now I am just not ready to wear you again.
I remember looking in the mirror, I had just put you on, put on his favorite perfume and waited patiently for him to buzz. I was wearing you when he got me pregnant so it only seemed fitting to tell him while wearing you, he smiled and we embraced but I could feel his torment. I am sure he was running through all the women he ran through while I was sitting pretty and silly, thinking I had it all, while wearing that blue dress. I was not wearing that blue dress when I miscarried but I remember showering and seeing a life I had once dreamed of going down the drain, I sat down in the shower as I never did and prayed, blindly because I had no idea what I wanted or needed. After that shower, it was one I will unfortunately never forget, I was standing in my closet crying, feeling helpless, desperate and annihilated, and I saw the blue dress hanging with all the other garments that I have worn on so many other occasions. So many memories, it’s silly but still, I will keep a piece of clothing simply because of the day or time that I wore it but that blue dress, she’s different. I am not sure I will ever wear you again, for fear of what good or bad could come of it, perhaps I am just not ready but I had to tell you about her because we all have stories to tell and she is no different.
-B
