My widow friend Supa referred to this term called "skin hunger".
And I have been suffering.
I so want to be touched.
I need to be touched.
For more than just a quick embrace.
For more than just a hello or goodbye hug.
I want to be held.
I want my hair to be stroked.
I want to be touched.
Touched. Touched. Touched!
Tomorrow, it will be eight months since I have had sex with someone.
Yeah, too much information I know but...
The desire is so strong.
Part of my issue, I think, is touch is my primary love language.
Gary Chapman wrote several books about the five love languages.
It is a great book and I am a classic touch person.
I am also very tactile.
I touch almost everything around me all the time.
In a store, I will touch a shirt or pair of pants before I even look at the price.
If I am walking down the street and see an interesting building, I touch it.
When picking out our cats, I wanted soft fluffy fur.
Touch drives me.
So now that I have had my toucher ripped from me, I am suffering.
Perhaps I just want to feel those feelings again.
To feel good about me.
To feel loved.
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine held my hand a few moments and kissed me on the forehead a couple of times.
And it felt so unbelievably nice.
Even if he did it just to be nice.
Even if it was quick.
Even though it was completely platonic.
So today, I just had to be touched.
I could not take it another moment.
So I went to a massage place.
It was calling out to me as I passed it.
I asked for a male therapist.
And for $39, he gave me a wonderful massage.
Yeah, it was not the romantic touching I really desire but it was human contact of the male persuasion.
It was fantastic.
And although he was only doing his job, I enjoyed every moment of the warmth of his hands.
And he massaged my ass.
My ass! I know has not been touched in eight months.
Sigh. Soon I know. It is only a matter of time.
3 comments:
HooRAH for getting what you need!
X
Supa
Good for you! It's only been a little over 5 months for me, but I'm dying. You put into words exactly how I'm feeling...
Only 8 months?!? Good lord, girl, whatha complaining about with only 8 months?!? (And I'm TOTALLY teasing, I hope you know.)
I often think that first year of getting used to the ripped-away intimacy is the hardest. You know EXACTLY how long it's been since you were last touched, kissed, hugged, loved. And you can still remember exactly what it felt like too, so its absence is more excruciating.
But after almost 4 years? I can barely remember what it felt like anymore, which really saddens me. Thankfully it hasn't been that long since I had sex (allelujah), but closing in on 2 years since that is bad enough. I don't know why, but since moving into the new house I've been aware of the lack so much more again. I have a sex drive? What? It was news to me.
Or maybe it's that, with the move, I don't have my sister living 2 blocks away now, can't distract myself from how lonely I am, how much I miss having someone who loves me, who I live with, who adores my child.
And really, it's not just a nameless, faceless "someone" whom I want. Unfortunately, it's just Charley. I miss him and I'm lonely for him. Desperately.
Damn damn damn.
That first year or 18 months or so after Charley died I made it a priority to get a massage once a month, so at least I got some slight physical touch with someone, paid or not, female or male. And then once I started dating someone, I told myself it was a stupid waste of money (plus I just lived too far away from the spa I love, and they raised their already high prices). I need to get back to doing it, because it did help. In many ways it was my own church service for myself, I think. I thought about Charley a lot, about my life, about my loss. Somehow it became rather spiritual. Or maybe it became that only in hindsight.
But regardless. Good for you for going! Feed that need however you need!
Hugs!
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