Updated: Dec 19, 2017
MAY 19, 2015
Touch is such a basic human need. I didn’t realize how essential it is to my wellbeing and happiness until it was gone. I miss hugs, kisses and long embraces. Touch connected me so intimately to my spouse. I long to be loved again that way. My life feels so sterile and dull without it. Touch is a primal, sensual fuel that colors, ties and feeds the hunger of my soul. I miss it so much that I push the thought of it into the back recesses of my mind. The yearning is buried so deep in my core that I’m afraid of unearthing it. Without warning, sadness, loss, and self-pity randomly burst out with a flood of uncontrollable tears. I keep repeating the mantra that it’s going to be ok and things will get better. Reality says otherwise. It’s impossible to satisfy my body’s cravings. It’s lonely, so lonely that the isolation slowly devours me. It gnaws away at me bit by bit.
I try to shake it off and force a mood shift by going outside for a bike or run. Burning myself out feels like the only option. The endorphins lift me out of despair but I know the seed of loneliness is still there. It hits me in little pulses all day long. The biggest hits occur at parties after the cocktail hour. Couples loosen up with the alcohol. Their hands reach out to touch their spouses on whatever body part strikes their fancy. I watch this play out all around and me. I am an island.
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