There are days that I miss hugging you and sundays have this effect on me since this used to be ‘our’ day.
I miss hugging you, nestling my head in the cozy warm corner of your neck, hiding, away from the entire world in our little bubble of happiness. I miss inhaling your scent, feeling it fill up my lungs, every pore and cell of my body and the attack of goosebumps that follow.
To feel your rough stubble on my cheek and brush my face against the nape releases a million butterflies in my stomach and makes my heart flutter. I miss feeling the grip of your palms on my arms and how you would envelope me in your arms and then rock me slowly.
I miss the last few days that I spent with you before you left, to sit on your lap for hours and hug you while simultaneously sobbing silently. The way you pacified me by tracing your hands on the length of my back, telling me stories and whispering me that you would always be with me, no matter what.
The number of hours we sat in silence wrapped in each others arms and at times putting in all our strength to squeeze our bodies together, just in the hope that they would magically merge and we didn’t have to stay away from each others.
I miss the welcome bear hugs that were a mandate whenever we met, the pause hugs that we took when a fight got out of hands, to fall onto each other for support, afterall you can’t win when you fight with the one you love the most.
I’m not a touchy person and don’t like physical contact but now that you aren’t here I could really use a few hugs. Sometimes when I pass by your house or think about how helpless I am that I can’t meet you when I wish to, my eyes immediately well up in tears and I can feel the stinging of tears, after all there is only so much that my tears can obey.
Maybe the next time you send me a letter you can send in a few hugs too, but until then, free hugs, anyone?