Holy crap, there are so many things on my needles right now.
When I first started knitting, I was a total project whore, with a million things going at once. Then, once I graduated to big, involved projects, I settled down and discovered that monogamy can be very satisfying and ultimately less stressful and taxing. Now, it's like I'm having a slew of mid-life crisis affairs. These little knitting flings feel so ilicit and exciting at first, but inevitably the strain of trying to divide my time and attention between all of them has become too much. It's time to stop screwing around--I have to tell my little bits on the side that our time together has to come to an end. The thing is...I'm too chickenshit to do this in person. I hate hurting feelings, ya know? But what other possible solution could there b...hey, I've got it! I'll break up with these projects on my BLOG! I love it when people post their personal business on the Internet.
Dear Hemlock Ring Blanket,
First, I'd just like to say thank you, because you've really taught me a lot. Remember that first night when we cast on, and I (rather sheepishly) told you that I'd never done a magic loop before? You were so kind, Hem, so brave and forgiving, despite what could not have been the most comfortable of cast-ons. We got through it though, you know? We stuck together and powered through those first awkward rounds, and after that, wow! You just blossomed, right in my hands. That was special for me. Really. We've had some great times together.
Still, I think we've got to face facts here. The project I fell in love with is now surrounded by inches upon inches of feather and fan. And that's not a bad thing! I like a blanket with some meat on its bones, but...and please don't think I'm shallow here, I'm just trying to be honest--going out on the town with you has become sort of difficult. It's hard to find a bag that will acommodate a project of your...size. I used to love sitting at the table with you on my lap at Knit Happens, people would look at us and smile. "What a cute couple," they would think to themselves. Lately though, I feel kind of dwarfed by you. Truthfully, these days I just find the idea of working on you very unattractive. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be harsh, but there it is.
Now, I know this is tough. Just last night I started working the cute little (ha!) border that goes around your edge, and when that's done you will be off my needles forever. I can't bring myself to lie here--after that I'm gonna block you, and I know you're going to be a total wet blanket about it and try and stretch it out into a big long THING. And I guess that's your right--I owe you that much.
It's been fun, okay? But baby, it's over.
We both agreed this was going to be a quick and casual affair, so I know you won't bear me any ill will when I tell you that it's time for us to part. It's not you, it's me--you're fabulous. I still get a little thrill when I see you lying there, in all your grass-green cashmere glory. I hadn't knit a scarf in so long, and then BANG! We just sort of found each other. The creative energy you inspired me to was so pleasant, so easy and fun. Remember that afternoon we spent, cuddled up on the couch together watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Magical.
Unfortunately, like so many passions that burn too brightly, too quickly, this tryst has run its course. We'll have one or two more dates, where we'll make awkward conversation and try and recapture the spark that once so enflamed us. It will be during one of these tiresome sessions that I'll look down at my hands, only to find that you're binding off. I'll feel a little sad, but mostly relieved that it's finally over. We were never meant for forever.