"You say that every year at the exact same time."
"For months now, you walk right past me, you never talk to me."
"What you like me to say?"
"You could ask me how I'm doing."
"How are you?"
"Not so good."
"Why not?"
"I'm feel so unloved."
"Don't cry. I love you."
"You loved me when you bought me, sure. I was young and unwrinkled. But now, you take me for granted. You assume I'll always be here."
"You're a sweater. Where else would you be?"
"Out to dinner, or a movie. I'd settle for anywhere. If I have to spend another day in this closet, I'll lose my mind."
"You're surrounded by friends."
"Friends? The long-sleeves never talk to me. They're my competition. You put on a long-sleeve, you might not need me."
"What about the T-shirts?"
"The T-shirts are mean. They talk about me behind my back. They say I'm too heavy for summer."
"They've got a point."
"But summer's over."
"Only by the calendar. It's still 98 degrees out there."
"I don't care, I can handle it."
"I can't. I'm sorry. I'm melting."
"A blast of AC never hurt."
"I'm melting with the AC on."
"Poor you."
"Just be patient. I'm sure at some point, it'll cool down and you'll come on a nice walk with me, or maybe to the market. Would you like that?"
"You know I would."
"Feel better?"
"No. But don't mind me. You go and have a good time. I'll just sit here in the dark."
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