Or something to that effect.
Since Sunday, I have felt that I had used up all of mine on play-hugs this weekend. Now, when I think I need them the most, I don't know how to get any more hugs. Do I regret sitting in the dark, talking about things that young people talk about, hugging one another just to see what comfort feels like? I don't think so, but I am always someone who lives in the moment and actively trying not to live through regrets. Don't get too jealous when I tell you that there was one Friday night where we sat in the dark and tried to teach/learn how to whistle for fifteen minutes. Such a beautifully happy, spontaneous moment. It happened just the weekend before last, but I feel like that was so long ago - when I tried to laugh and smile at my brightest to build my joy and (hopefully) theirs as well.
But I've been holding Winston and Bearrington (and Hello Kitty, but she's not a plushie. She's a pillow) so tightly these days, both in my arms and hands - perhaps to squeeze out my discomfort? Thank goodness yoga last night rendered me into a mindless lump of exhaustion. I have always known that when I am at saddest/most melancholy/most restless, my fingers get this tension that I can never describe. Imagine my surprise today when some people on campus were offering free hugs. I didn't say anything except for "Thank you," after I embraced a short woman rather lightly. It wasn't exactly the reassuring embraces that my mother & brothers give, but it was better than Winston and Bearrington, who can only be the recipients of my hugs.
My favorite hugs are when I am arrive home and my brothers get a running start(well, only the little one does now as the Teen Brother has gotten too old for that) to tackle me one after then next. Then, we proceed to try and out-squeeze each other until we're both on the floor in laughter so bright and smiles so large that I wish I could bottle them up for days like these. Mother gives brilliant hugs when she's in a particularly playful mood. They start out innocent enough, until the reassuring pressure slowly becomes that of a viper squeezing its prey. When you think that the breath has been squeezed out by her arms tightly wrapped around your ribs, she goes in for the tickling. It's an underhanded tactic that has you weeping with laughter and instantly surrendering. This is also her secret maneuver when wrestling. Or waking up sleepy children for school in the wintertime.
The hugs that I wish I could receive from Winston and Bearrington would be the warm kind that crushes the doubt and tension out with my breath. Firm rubs on the back. Squeezing my hand in an even firmer, confident grasp. All the while, ignoring if I wet their shoulder with eye-sweat or if I'm shaking.
If you saw me in public, would you offer me a hug?
What would it cost me?
p.s. I don't know where they've all gone, but Roomie is right when she says I get lonely when no one's home. I'm such a needy puppy.
Since Sunday, I have felt that I had used up all of mine on play-hugs this weekend. Now, when I think I need them the most, I don't know how to get any more hugs. Do I regret sitting in the dark, talking about things that young people talk about, hugging one another just to see what comfort feels like? I don't think so, but I am always someone who lives in the moment and actively trying not to live through regrets. Don't get too jealous when I tell you that there was one Friday night where we sat in the dark and tried to teach/learn how to whistle for fifteen minutes. Such a beautifully happy, spontaneous moment. It happened just the weekend before last, but I feel like that was so long ago - when I tried to laugh and smile at my brightest to build my joy and (hopefully) theirs as well.
But I've been holding Winston and Bearrington (and Hello Kitty, but she's not a plushie. She's a pillow) so tightly these days, both in my arms and hands - perhaps to squeeze out my discomfort? Thank goodness yoga last night rendered me into a mindless lump of exhaustion. I have always known that when I am at saddest/most melancholy/most restless, my fingers get this tension that I can never describe. Imagine my surprise today when some people on campus were offering free hugs. I didn't say anything except for "Thank you," after I embraced a short woman rather lightly. It wasn't exactly the reassuring embraces that my mother & brothers give, but it was better than Winston and Bearrington, who can only be the recipients of my hugs.
My favorite hugs are when I am arrive home and my brothers get a running start(well, only the little one does now as the Teen Brother has gotten too old for that) to tackle me one after then next. Then, we proceed to try and out-squeeze each other until we're both on the floor in laughter so bright and smiles so large that I wish I could bottle them up for days like these. Mother gives brilliant hugs when she's in a particularly playful mood. They start out innocent enough, until the reassuring pressure slowly becomes that of a viper squeezing its prey. When you think that the breath has been squeezed out by her arms tightly wrapped around your ribs, she goes in for the tickling. It's an underhanded tactic that has you weeping with laughter and instantly surrendering. This is also her secret maneuver when wrestling. Or waking up sleepy children for school in the wintertime.
The hugs that I wish I could receive from Winston and Bearrington would be the warm kind that crushes the doubt and tension out with my breath. Firm rubs on the back. Squeezing my hand in an even firmer, confident grasp. All the while, ignoring if I wet their shoulder with eye-sweat or if I'm shaking.
If you saw me in public, would you offer me a hug?
What would it cost me?
p.s. I don't know where they've all gone, but Roomie is right when she says I get lonely when no one's home. I'm such a needy puppy.
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