there is this thing we did that i miss.
we would hug.
or more than hug, by definition, but it was a hug.
we hugged like people imagine a hug, but we also did this one other thing,
do it this one other way.
i have had a life of being starved for human contact, for the need of being touched.
my parents did not touch us, my brother and me. they were not affectionate people.
my grandparents would hug us, hold our hands, but our parents did not.
and oddly now that i think of it, our grandparents did not touch us in front of our parents.
my first husband hated being touched. he hated touching me
he told me once to never touch him. so i was very careful if we stood in close proximity.
no holding hands. no sitting on the sofa together. no touching.
he slept in a different bedroom and for 15+ years, i was not touched by him.
as my children grew up, i kept holding their hands, ruffling their hair, kissing their cheeks,
and hugging them.
i never wanted them to feel alone in the world.
i never wanted them to feel worthless, or like there was something wrong with them.
there is nothing wrong with wanting a hug, or wanting to hold someone's hand.
my Dragon liked touching me.
he would hold my hand.
he would hug me.
but he would also do this one other thing.
i would lay down on the bed and he would lay down on top of me and hold me.
i would feel his big body pressing down on me.
he would nuzzle my neck and whisper in my ear,
"i love you. you are mine and you are safe.
i will never tire of touching you.
you are my love forever and ever."
i had told him what it felt like to realize the people
who are supposed to love you to not want to touch you.
he never wanted me to feel like that again.
i feel that again. so i close my eyes
and remember the hug.