An ode to touching

A supportive squeeze of your hand when your friend sees your ex enter the pub. An arm that weaves its way around your waist as you’re cooking dinner. A forehead to forehead touch the moment before you kiss for the first time. 

I miss touching. I miss reaching out. I miss holding you and saying nothing but feeling infinitely heard.

FaceTime can take you so far - you can see the smile on your Dad’s face as he unwraps the best present you’ve ever got him, you can see your sleeping dog with her tongue poking out, you can see your friends elation in the moment she tells you that she landed the new job. But you can not hug them to show them how much it means. Zoom might be the closest we can get when touching isn’t safe, but my heart is yearning for closer. 

Two meters is a great distance for standing on the train platform beside a stranger or for avoiding the slightly sweaty man as you do your Tesco shop. But two meters is not a great distance for where I want to be.

I want to be holding your hand as we dance in the living room. I want to be sat on your lap, after joining a group and finding no empty seats. I want to lay on the sofa with my head tucked in that space between your chin and your chest. 

I want to feel again.

Never again will I pass up the chance to hug each of my friends before I leave a group dinner. In fact you might have to forcible ask me to leave that group dinner because I am not sure I ever want to be separated from them again. 

I have travelled the world, and lived on opposite ends of this planet, it seems I am always too far from someone. But never before have I been too far from everyone I love. Even when this too far is just two meters at times. I just want to reach out my hand to really show you how much I love you, because honestly my words can’t do it enough.

In the future we might forget that awful time where for a year touching was not safe - a single touch could cost a life. But when I am squeezed between a few of you, as we wake up in a pile, in a bed we always manage to get too many of us in, my heart will remember that this is where I feel safest. Being in one sticky, sweet, loving, messy, moreish cuddle after a night of laughing, dancing, loving and doting. You are my people.

I can’t wait to touch you again. 


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