My birthday suit doesn't fit anymore. What happened to my body? What happened to the suit? It used to fit so tight, smooth silky supple, wrapped so tightly that it made me look like a little sausage.Then it grew when I grew, filling and stretching around every milestone, bulging with me, allowing me to keep my belongings comfortably sheltered and offering me protection from the wear and tear of daily fulfillment.
You never seemed to care how I treated you. I burnt you, skinned you cut you, abused you with unhealthy diets and customs knowing you would always bounce back. And then one day you seemed awkward, uncomfortable, not quite what I was used to.
I don't know when it started happening but it did happen slowly almost imperceptibly, until one mirror morning I couldn't believe my tired eyes. What devastation, my suit no longer fit. It sagged in the wrong places, melted off of old chronic fixtures, and showed harrowing evidence of the battle. Scared, blemished and unforgiving. Unrecognizable except for the reminders of times past, not unlike the marred surface of an ancient tree who's only history can be found in its rings.
My suit is abandoning me, reluctant to regenerate once more, becoming more of a hindrance than a companion, apparently wanting to fade off the mannequin before its put away into storage. I'm sorry my friend. I took you for granted, and now I expect you to fit like yesterday. Maybe a trip to the skin tailor for a rejuvenating nip and tuck to delay the inevitable.
No, I think will gently give in and shed you in time. Thank you for standing with me throughout the battle. You were there for the good and the bad. Ill try to be gentler on you. Stitch up the gaps, soothe the abrasions, and prop up the stance not unlike Dali would his timepiece.
Hang in there as you always have. Be assured you will only be retired alongside me when Father Time and Sir Isaac Newton quit.