When something is lost, you realizes that you never appreciated it until it was gone. You never realize how much it really was worth to you or how many memories you’ve had with it. I lost something recently. It was something simple. Something that someone could easily take away when one is not paying attention. I lost my leather jacket two nights ago when studying with a group of friends and with it, I lost a part of myself.
I’ve always wanted a leather jacket since I was twelve years old. Why? Probably because back then I thought it would look cool. I even wrote a short story on a man reminiscing of his high school days and being haunted by the ghosts of his past through a leather jacket he remembers wearing with the words, “Rules to Live by,” threaded in gold on the back. That's how much I was obsessed with it.
I got the jacket when I was sixteen after saving up for sometime and it started meaning more than just something cool. I’ve had that leather jacket for two to three years now, but now it’s gone. I’ve always told people that when I wore it that it was lucky, but I guess my luck ran out when it disappeared. I didn’t realize it was gone until the next morning, when I was looking through my closet because it was cold outside. I’ve lost only small things before this, but this was my first major time that I had lost something of this importance.
The memories I had with that jacket are embedded in it’s threads. The stains, physical and emotional, will never be removed from that jacket. All the creases and bends, will remain the way that it was supposed to fit for my body and no one else’s. However, I can’t help but think of the terrible thought that it was stolen away from me. That someone, right now, is wearing it with a smirk on their face.
What memories can it possibly hold?
A few dates that could never be forgotten with a magnificent girl, a carnival, a basketball game, a volleyball game, all the hugs from friends, a few dances here and there, the friendly touches on my shoulder, summer days and summer nights, friendly punches and not so friendly. Everything was felt through that jacket and now, without it, I feel empty almost. A piece of me is missing now. The memories are still there, obviously, like papers stacked on top of each other in my mind, but where is the file cabinet to keep them all in?
I guess, I should move on. It was just an article of clothing that can be replaced. I had the privilege of at least owning a jacket. Many people in this world don’t own such things. I was lucky enough to just have a try at it and I could at least save up, once again, for another leather jacket, which will be a new file cabinet of memories for me. It will hold a bunch of new memories and maybe restore some of the old.
I’ve lost something, but I’ve also gained something else. The knowledge that sometimes things get lost and they can be very important things, too, but I have to move on. I don’t think I’ll ever see that jacket ever again, but if I do get the chance I know what I’ll do. I would always wear it, maybe even to bed, so that it would never leave my sight again.
What is something you lost? Have you ever gotten it back? What would you do if you did somehow find it again?