I’m a toucher. It’s something I became painfully aware of with my first girlfriend. She felt my touching was ‘suffocating, overwhelming and just needy.’ She planted that little tiny seed of doubt that spoke up when I wanted to hug later love interests. Now I can look back and see she had intimacy issues, but there is a part of me that hesitates during a hug. I never want to overstay my welcome
Because Fate has a sense of humor, I married a woman with chronic asthma and blond frizzy hair that would make Hermione seek out a flat iron. It’s difficult to snuggle with a woman who could choke to death if she can’t escape your arms quick enough during an asthma attack. It’s hard to nuzzle someone who’s hair crawls up your nose, down your throat and in your ears. We love each other, and are are always close, but there’s that constant half inch barrier.
This is something I hadn’t really noticed till now. The BDSM community I am in is touchy feeling. At first I thought they were all sleeping with one another but I have since found out that they just get a lot of affirmation through touching. A lot of BDSM play doesn’t cross into sex, but the intimacy is there and after a good scene you feel like you just had sex. You’ve watched a friend slip into another mindscape and you’ve helped them come back to reality. How can you not feel a bond after that?
So now here I am and after playing with a few people, I find myself hip deep in hug buddies. I am in fucking heaven. I have forgotten how nice it is to just have a hand on my knee, or an arm around my shoulder. There is a sense of peace that you can only get when someone hugs you from behind. I feel sexy, but more importantly I feel comforted. I feel this abscence of loneliness that I wasn’t aware was even there.
I don’t want the hugs to ever stop.