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Not today, but very recently.
A few years back when I was really getting into the hiking scene I came across these really tough and supremely comfortable socks. Darn, they were nice.
These socks were so nice I threw away all my other socks and just stocked up on these.
This was at a point where life was pretty rough for me. Hiking helped tremendously and the sudden lack of blisters from these new socks pushed me to new limits and helped me find some light at the end of the tunnel.
To me, they’re symbolic of freedom, joy and love. I don’t give them as gifts to anyone. She is the third, and the last I suppose.
I went to several stores in the metro area to find the perfect ones. I got three pairs. I went all over looking for the perfect box, wrapping material (wrapping paper just won’t do), and other effects. This would be the only gift I gave anyone this season. I wanted it to be from the heart.
Here’s the F.U.: I snuck the gift in and in the locker room I handed it off like a football and hightailed it toward the exit. She stopped me and started ripping the packaging like there was a stash of diamonds and gold inside.
It was done. The socks were out of the box and I’m just standing there like a chump looking stupid. I never led up to the backstory or anything. No foreshadowing whatsoever. Just me, her, and some socks.
I feel so hopelessly clueless and stupid. It didn’t even cross my mind what I was doing the whole time I was doing it, until it was over.
TL;DR gave crush socks for Xmas without context. Now she probably thinks I’m a creep.
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