Dear Leather Jacket,
I remember when I first saw you, hanging in Rue 21. I’d never been in that store, but I believe fate led me inside so we could meet. I confess, I thought you were out of my league. I almost walked away, but my friend convinced me to try you on and I fell in love. I’ve worn you almost every day since.
You make me feel daring. I feel secure in your embrace. Your shell is sturdy, but your sleeves are soft. You’re the perfect combination of harsh and loving. You’ve protected me on many dark nights when I’ve walked alone. You’ve also been with me for some of my greatest successes.
You were with me when I held my breath as I waited for the results of my GED tests. You were with me when I took a leap of faith and walked through the doors of my current employer – with my hair still wet from a shower and soaking into your fabric – to apply for a job. You were with me when I sat on the leather seats of a Buick LeSabre and decided to buy my first car. To my great comfort, you were my companion in First Class when I flew to Salt Lake City to finally begin my new life. You were one with me as I hugged my parents goodbye and wiped my tears on your sleeve.
You are selfless. Unlike many leather jackets, you have a hood, and you’ve protected me against relentless storms and an occasional fountain of baby spit up.
You are without guile. I recently bought a new leather jacket for nice occasions, but you don’t mind, because I wear you to work and you know that’s because I trust you the most.
You make no judgements. You’ve seen me make some of my greatest mistakes, but you haven’t said a word. You’ve simply loved me anyway.
Leather jacket, you have seen me through it all. You’ve been the best friend I could ever ask for. I will love you forever, even when the unthinkable day comes that you’re too worn to go on. You will always be my first leather jacket.
Love,
Bonnie
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