Goodbye, Sofa.

This is harder than I thought it would be. As I write this, my sofa and I are spending our last week together. The years have not been kind to my old friend, and it’s time for Sofa to go to that big rec room in the sky.

Much like Homer Simpson, I consider Sofa to be a member of the family – on par with TV and possibly Dishwasher. Even though we used to move often, Sofa was always there for me. I’m not truly home for the evening until I’ve flopped onto Sofa. In fact, I have to make a pact with myself not to sit on Sofa until I’ve done all my household tasks for the day, otherwise, game over. When I’m out somewhere, tired, uncomfortable and want to go home, Sofa is what’s on my mind. Or possibly Bed, Sofa’s only true competition.

Sofa has been a silent, supporting player to countless naps, tv shows, movies, gab fests, Hockey Nights in Canada, laptop sessions, books and magazines, as well as the odd sick day or hangover. The cats love Sofa too, meaning I often have to displace one in order to lounge.

I have been dragging my heels while looking for a replacement, but the time for procrastination has passed. Sofa is a bit of an eyesore these days – faded,  threadbare, stuffing exposed, club soda stains from cleaning up cat barf. As much as I love Sofa, I do wonder what my newer friends and visitors must think. Once upon a time Sofa was black – the blue side of black, which over the years meant constant, lively debates. Was Sofa dark, dark blue or black? I always held out that Sofa was black. Not the darkest, inkiest black in the world, but black nonetheless. I was always in the minority, but I knew I was right.

Sofa may not look like much, but my god Sofa is comfortable. I even wrote to at one point, asking if they’d ever consider creating a slipcover for Sofa, whose IKEA name is “Ellne”. They kindly but regretfully wrote back to me, promising to let me know if they ever do make one.

I tried, Sofa. I really did, but I feel like I’ve failed you, somehow. I don’t even have space in my own basement for you, that’s how much I’ve let you down. I thought we’d go the distance – thought you’d be with me forever. Sorry, Sofa.