At best you'd call ours a brief encounter,
but at our closest I believed we'd be inseparable.

Will you ever forget the moment of our first meeting?
I'd resigned myself to a solitary, empty life. All the women in town seemed too much for me.They all looked as though they'd been raised on a hearty diet, and I, well I was only a 0. They'd pick me up and cast me bitterly, scornfully aside. You were different, lithe and wiry. I knew at that very instant that it wasn't my size, or style which drew you too me, perhaps my color, or maybe just the idea of me.

Your son was in the changing rooms trying on some rather ordinary jeans, and you reached out your little hand and touched me; I cannot have imagined the thrill of longing which passed between us. Your fingertips met my silk. For a brief moment you held me close, then you raced to have me all wrapped up. We were a gift to each other.

At home we rushed to your lonely dark room, and for the first time I was worn, and it was truly delightful. The fit of your body to mine, a joy I had never dared imagine. You walked out into the living room like a princess, and in an instant everything changed. Your son, a kid whose socks couldn't keep a relationship for more than five minutes, looked up at us and said.
"Woah...Where are you going?"
"Nowhere" you replied. I felt your shoulders sag "don't you like it? It's new."
"I think" he paused "it's a bit young for you Mom."
Quietly, you returned me to the dark room and left me there.