Hugs

It’s been awhile since anyone has hugged me. I smile, they smile, and I wrap my arms around them. It’s superficial, friendly, and something even close enemies can safely participate in. But that’s only something that soothes the itch of the surface.

It’s been so long since someone actually drew me close, put their body against mine and said, “I love you.” It doesn’t have to be a significant other, just a person—someone—anyone to hold me. My mother, my father, a friend. I am starved of essential nutrition. Like an evanescent flower without water, I feel as though I am withering. Clouds that are dark and evil congregate over my home—my very life. Rain is falling like tears all around me but never hitting my open wrists turned to Heaven.

Emptiness. It’s inside of me. I feel a void and I can’t tell if I’m falling or flying.

I want to orient myself. Please help me.

Somewhere out there, someone is listening. In those moments when I feel dead and I’m seconds away from my last breath, faithful arms always catch me. Like the finale of a grand Opera or Shakespearean masterpiece, the final act ends with my rediscovery of love. That human contact—I may be lacking it, but unlike my Daily Bread, it’s a luxury I don’t need, nonetheless deserve.