Socks

Last night as I was folding and putting away my laundry I found one of His socks. At first I was startled, He hadn't slept at the house since December and I thought I had returned everything left behind.

Guess I hadn't.

He returned to Florida on Monday. Back to his family and the chance to start a new life. We had said our good bye's a few weeks ago. While out one night he kind of pulled me aside, gave a big hug, looked me right in the eyes with the most serious look I had seen from him, and told me he would miss me. I started to get misty eyed.

I'm going to miss him too. Especially everytime I look at that stupid sock that doesn't have another to match it.

Unless I throw it away. Which I should do. Part of this whole "moving on" kick I'm on is getting rid of the things that remind of those who have, in one way or another, intentionally or unintentionally, hurt me. I've tossed some pictures and mementos. Deleted some email addresses and IM names.

A mental, emtotional and physical Spring Cleaning, if you will.