I love you. I really do, but I cannot wait until we are finished. I like your design, I think you’re fabulous, but the actual practice of knitting you has been a long, drawn out mess.
I’ve been really unfair to you, too. I’ve picked up other projects that may have been more “time sensitive” or a good distraction from the soothing monotony of your rib stitch pattern. I’ve finished those projects, but not you.
I care too much for you, and I’ll be seeing you too often to harbor any ill feelings toward you. If I were giving you away, I’d launch myself at you with the same mad fervor to get the job done as I usually do, but I can’t. Instead, I’m taking extra care with you. It maddens me to do it, but it’s necessary. See, Rusty, I still have to look at you when I’m all done because you belong to my Husband. It won’t be any time soon, but I will have to look at you for at least one full season. I can’t look at you if all I’ve done was growl at you for weeks. I just can’t. So, slowly, I work each stitch carefully, and with extra meditative breaths so I don’t pull my tension too tight.
I love you, I really do, which is why I’m taking all the time in the world to make you just right and perfect. I want to look at you and smile. I want to hug you hugging my husband, and bask in the delightful exchanges when he publicly showcases my work and deliciously explains who made it. I don’t want to have an involuntary “die” response whenever I see you.
I need my time, which is why I’m taking it. I have a shoulder to finish, blocking, buttons, sewing, and a button band to make.
I promise to be true to you until you’re finished and ready to go. But, it better be quick.