Farewell to the Futon

I had nothing but ill-feelings for our little blue, Ikea futon for the last few months. I'm happy that Chris and I recently sold it and that a real couch will be here this week. Why then, do I feel the need to say farewell to this inanimate object?

Maybe it's the suddenness of our parting. Chris posted the futon ad on Craigslist on Sunday night. When I came home from work the next day, he told me that he had a buyer coming over to pick it up that night. I didn't have time to wash the cover, much less vacuum-up the crumbs in the back fold.

Maybe its the sentimental value of the futon. The futon was one of the first pieces of furniture Chris and I purchased together. It fit perfectly in our first apartment in Lubbock. Having never owned any type of sofa before, we were quite fond of the futon at first.

Maybe it's the fact that the new futon owner didn't seem to appreciate the futon like I did when I first bought it. He was in a hurry. He only half-way listened to me explain the futon's pros and cons. It was as if he just needed any futon, and not that he choose our futon over all the others listed on Craigslist.

Maybe it's because the futon was the only thing in my apartment when I first moved to San Antonio. I slept on the futon. I ate on the futon. I watched T.V. on the futon. I folded clothes on the futon. I talked on the phone while sitting on the futon. I did everything on the futon.

Whatever the reason, when Chris told me that he had sold the futon, I made him pose for one last cuddle.

Good-bye futon. You were good to us.