To whom it may concern,
This is a story about a love lost. It’s a story about a girl and a coat and an undying romance. It’s a story of heartbreak and grieving and loneliness. But it’s also a story of hope.
It all began with the snowfall. On one frigid day in October in the city of Evanston, Illinois I fell in love. Not with a boy or a class or a book or a puppy, but with a coat. That morning, after the weather report showed a high of 30 and a 70% chance of snow, I unearthed my hefty, unscathed Canada Goose coat from deep inside my 3-foot-long dorm room dresser, threw it over my shoulders and stepped outside. From that moment on, my life was changed forever.
That was the start of our storybook romance. There wasn’t a moment in which we weren’t together. We were inseparable. He was perfect: he hugged me tightly, but not too tightly. He held my hands, and he covered my hair from the rain, wind, and snow. He protected me on my best days and my worst ones alike. He was my best friend. We even had nicknames for each other. I called him C. Goo, and he…well, he didn’t say much. But that didn’t matter. I knew he would always be there when I needed him, and he knew that I would always need him.
I’ve never had a relationship like the one I had with C. Goo. Being a tried and true Los Angelino, the only weather I’ve ever known is 75 and sunny. Before embarking on my journey to Evanston to study at Northwestern University, I received many glances of concern and “good luck surviving the winter”s. And to be honest, I was afraid. That is, until I met C. Goo. From the very first moment we were together, I knew that when I was with him, there would never be anything to fear except losing him.
And then my fear became a reality. On a cold, dark night in January, my heart was shattered into a million teeny tiny pieces. It was brisk out, and I felt the cold in my bones. I slipped my arms into C. Goo, and I was immediately overcome with that familiar feeling of comfort and security. I knew I was going to a crowded place. I knew people wouldn’t be in their most astute states of mind. I knew it was a risk. But I knew no other coat would hold me the way C. Goo did. I couldn’t leave him behind. So, that night, I made the biggest mistake of my life: I brought him with me. I put him down in what I thought was a safe place, and when I came back to get him before I left, he was gone. I searched and searched, but nothing. I stared woefully at the coat rack as my friends pulled me into a cab.
In the days that followed, I felt empty. I posted and texted and tweeted and called. I even went back to the venue. But it was all to no avail. C. Goo was gone. I was alone. I felt heartbroken and doleful. Acquaintances offered to let me borrow their coats, but I knew nothing could compare to C. Goo. In fact, their mere presence made me sick to my stomach. When I saw another C. Goo in passing, I had to suppress the most intense urge to break down into a fit. I was missing my other half.
They say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. But I knew. I knew that what I had with C. Goo was something I would never have with any other coat. And now I know it more than ever. The thought of C. Goo still stings. I know he’s out there somewhere, and the idea of him with another girl reduces me to tears.
I understand why one might think it absurd for a girl to have such strong feelings for an article of clothing, but I feel that you, fellow sufferers of the cold, of all people, could empathize. So, here I am, a girl of 18 who is cold and broken, asking you, friends, to help me get my love back.
Take care and stay warm,