Today someone from work touched me to illustrate a point in his conversation. It gave me shivers. I know that touch is healing. It soothes me when I am stressed. It calms me when I am hectic. It lowers my heart rate and it makes me feel good. When my children are in Melbourne I take full advantage of hugs and kisses. I touch them whenever they let me.I massage my boy and brush my girl's hair. I hold their hands. I hug them tight at night. And I love every second of it.
When they are not here, I can the whole week without being touched. It's only when I see my family on the weekend that I am hugged.
Touch is not the same when it is not skin on skin. There's a reason that kangaroo care is so successful with newborns and premmie babies. Humans are designed to be near each other and touch each other frequently. We crave human interaction and the most intimate form is skin on skin contact.
I remember the first of my girlfriends to have sex. We were in middle high school and she was mad for her boyfriend. She was nervous about losing her virginity, especially as she was the first person to do so. The girls wanted all the details afterwards, as girls tend to do. All I can recall from that conversation is that she said the sex was pretty average but the feeling of being wrapped in her lover's arms afterward was the most intensely happy moment of her life. I concur. There is nothing more reassuring and affirming than having the man you love embrace you after sex (even though I knew he did not love me back). It is the deepest sense of satisfaction, contentment and security I have ever known. The warmth, the rawness and the acceptance of imperfection is nothing short of miraculous.
I miss that. I miss it more than I care to admit and more than I want to. When you crave something it can cloud your judgement and lead to poor decisions. I am working on letting go and accepting my fate but it is a primeval need and it is proving more difficult than I had hoped.
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