old socks....

i feel like a pair of socks. yep, socks. not red socks mind you, of whom my favor is a weakness according to two of my favorite and best people, but old socks. the dingy white ones that need some bleach and maybe a darning or two.

the men in my life (not among my favorite and my best) are treating me like old socks. i am comfy. there is no doubt about that. but comfy doesn't do it when compared to the lovely, cottony sheen of new socks. i am kept in the drawer of the bureau for those cold nights when a guy just needs some warmth and comfort...the kind only old socks can bring. i am the emotional comfort as these men pursue new relationships. i'm the history. i am the understanding, and we all know how great it is to be understood. however, i do not get the fun the new socks get. i get shoved to the back of the drawer, crammed in with everything else, never to be taken out on the town. the new socks get that. they get the show and i'm stuck in the laundry basket, waiting for my own attention.

that's it really. i am the go-to gal when it comes to emotional support. i'll tell you what you want, when you want, and i'll do it freely and willingly, devoting every bit of myself to what you need. i am the old socks. dependable, valued, but not worth introducing to friends, wearing with a suit, or anything better than sloughing around the house when feeling miserable.

i want to be new socks. for someone, someday, i'm sure i will be. but i don't want to be fresh-from-the package new. i want to be gap brand socks...the kind that are comfy and broken in when you buy them brand new. no need to go through the starched stiffness of brand new after all. and i want a sock wearer that will keep me new after many loving wears. i want to be lucky socks... the kind he puts on before his big meeting.

so, to the rest of them, those who wear the old socks once in a while, i say "hmmpf! we're lost in the dryer now, boy! good luck. and i'm sure those new socks won't be as comfy as me!"