There's something about it; holding hands, giving or receiving hugs, the sincere human touch. It's just a sudden thought, a sudden realisation looking back at these past few months, weeks perhaps. There's a difference in how it makes you feel, according to when or who's doing it with you. Nobody's the same. You don't just hold someone's hand or let just anyone hug you. Still I've my moments.
Not to forget- presence. Lately it's been hitting me how vital human touch is to me. I've been going on with so little human contact in the past few years and in those months of illness especially, that picking myself back up and getting stable, feeling human again, is causing me to crave so much of that. Going back to the two years where I did have it all doesn't make it any better either.
There's something about the hugs I got when I was breaking down or the hand that held me and mine when I was petrified and out of my head, these moments, these people, they've been more than amazing. The nights where they had to sacrifice sleep to take care of me or the times where they stayed despite the uncomfortable circumstances and the backache from it. Cherishing all I've got before it goes.
Hoping that someday something stays.
Despite believing nothing will.
I can't take another touch n go.
I'm sick of getting touched that way.
-riri-
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