I was rummaging around in my sock drawer the other day and noticed that I had one sock that was missing its mate. I haven't worn that style of sock for years, which makes me wonder why I've held onto it for so long.
Have I been waiting for the washing machine to cough up the missing mate? Wait -- we bought a new laundry machine since then, so that possibility is out.
Could it be that I'm just too lazy to throw the single one away? Well, I'm not that lazy.
Is there some part of me that is just waiting for the missing mate to magically appear? That sort of magical thinking is beyond even my way of looking at things.
No, I think this little sock is just a symbol of what I carry in my heart. I'm waiting, waiting, waiting for my Twin Soul to connect with me. My missing mate.