(still in the making - here is something to chew on for now)
Every sock is looking for its match. Some are found right away, but others have to wait, always gazing deeply into the pile of clothes waiting for that match to turn up, but always knowing that there is a match somewhere in that pile.
It doesn't matter if it's right side out or inside out, it sits and waits with hope. As the pile gets smaller and smaller, there's a subtle anxiety that seems to permeate the air.
Thoughts of loss and worry quickly come to surface.
There's always a small chance that a slight jealousy could sneak in when watching the others rejoicing in the beginning when their pairs are found quickly.
Sometimes, doubt may fill the sock and leave it wondering if its match was lost, hence, putting it out of normal commission.
Some wonder if its match is lost, but is filled with joy when the match is fished out from the muck! However, there are those that have casualties. Those whom remember the days of running happily with its match, but now know that it will never see it again, or still wonders if it will ever turn up.
Sometimes, they will join up with another sock that looked like its match, or one that is completely different, but it will never be the same.