LOVE, Kloudiia

My pants says it all.

It has weathered serveral ups and downs, and through the years, it is still hanging there, serving me faithfully.

There were times when it felt loose even when all buttoned up; times when it felt just right and times when I could button up the bottom two and leave the top two dangling.

Yes, my pants will tell me if I’ve been putting on weight, lost some kilos or I have been maintaining well.

Isn’t it funny how some items have witnessed our lives and hence they bore stories that breathed life into their lifeless bodies? Like the shoe that has followed me to Hong Kong and back, and had left countless indelible marks on the roads and pavements; the watch that has shown me the time and saw me graduating to my first job and until now; the shaker pencil that had written many a test papers and is still a permanent member in my stationery box. And my pants, of course, that has seen me going from a size that was too-slim to slightly-round to just-nice and now, getting-too-tight-for-comfort.

With so many life stories that they can tell, it is no wonder they have such long lifespans, and they live to share my successes and failures, happiness and sadness, until the next big event happens that might threaten their existence. That will be when I’ll be thrown into another big state of dilemna and stress – to throw or to keep.

Till then, I’ll continue to pile them up with many more tales that will help me remember those old times – a history that I can share with my loved ones.