The All-American Pullover

I never understood my ex. That might've been why I loved him so much. At sixteen, he was all I cared about - him, and that dark green jacket I wore back then. It was by American Apparel and it barely covered my stomach, but I didn't give a shit. I wore it to summer camp and tied it around my waist at football games. Even when it was obvious that I was outgrowing the boy and the jacket, I latched on tight to both of them.

My ex broke up with me a few weeks before I turned seventeen, which didn't matter because he couldn't recall my birthday to begin with. As for the jacket, I gave it to my sister without batting an eye. I had no reason to keep it.

Four years later, I spotted an army green jacket staring in my direction on a Goodwill rack. It was more or less the same jacket I once had, but longer and softer. And best of all, it fit me perfectly.