Huggy Bear

There are two types of people in the world. Well, there are millions of types of people, but for sake of this little essay we're only concentrating on two: people who like to be touched and people who don't.

I am a touchy feely guy. I was raised in a family that was very hands on, literally. As a small child I was always in someone's lap, or being hugged and kissed and all that. One of my earliest and happiest memories is sitting on my grandfather's lap and feeling his razor stubble on my face when he hugged me.

My parents are very affectionate, and I always felt safe and loved because they lavished that affection on me. They are that way with each other. They have been married nearly 60 years, and they still hold hands as they walk together. My family still hugs each other whenever we see each other, and because of that, I am an awesome hugger.

I love being close to the woman I happen to be in a relationship with at the time. Nothing makes me happier than cuddling on the couch while watching TV. I love sleeping all wrapped up with another person. I love skin on skin. I love making out and canoodling and whatever else that entails.

Now, there are a bunch of people reading this, and their skin is crawling. Some people don't like it, or have intimacy issues, or whatever, and that's fine. I feel bad for those people, though. I have dated girls that didn't like it. I dated one girl that couldn't stand to be touched on her elbows or knees or wrists because she felt like the bones were too close to the skin at those places and it freaked her out. Everyone's got issues.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people that drapes themselves over someone and suffocates them. I understand about personal space, and I know it has to be mutual. It is like torture for me though to sit there, night after night, because the person I am seeing never wants intimacy. They are just the other type of person we're talking about, and that's fine for them, but it sucks for me.

It reminds me of one time when I was in a pet shop, and they had a parrot for sale with a sign on its cage that touted it as “hand raised”. The guy at the store explained that raising them with constant human contact makes them more affectionate and results in a deeper bond with humans. They crave contact.

So it made me sad that there was another sign on the cage that warned not to put your fingers in the cage or touch the bird at all. The poor thing was pressed up against the bars, desperate to touch anyone, to feel human contact, just like it had been raised to do. I felt so horrible for the wretched thing that I was going to buy it right then and there until I saw that they wanted 550 dollars for it! I feel like that damn bird.

So I have been alone for awhile now, and while I'm pretty comfortable with all the mental aspects of solitary life, it is like torture for me not to have human contact. I hear that you can pay people to cuddle with you, but the thought of that just makes me lose the will to live. It just seems wrong.

Somehow, paying for sex seems much nobler than paying for cuddles.

I miss it. I miss just holding hands with someone. I miss playing footsie. I miss just running my hand across someone's back or shoulders as I pass them by in the kitchen. I miss when you hug someone and they press into you because they can't get close enough.

God help me, I miss people.