Touch

I have a fairly strong desire and need to be touched, hugged and generally loved and yet I generally don’t enjoy being touched in any way by just anyone and particularly not by strangers. I guess I just love the touch of those that I love and adore- like the hugs and kisses from my 2 year old niece or a bear-hug from a brother. As a kid I was constantly hugging my parents or climbing into their lap to be held.

One of the things that I miss from my former long-term relationship is the simple touch. A gentle hand on my back, a hand brushing the hair out of my face, falling asleep on the couch in the crook of his arm listening to his heartbeat…I miss being touched by a man without it being sexual.

I hate that he’s found some one new, someone who seems really sweet and genuine. I hate that they have pet names together already, that he sleeps over, that he flirts with her like I wished he had with me in the final months of our relationship. I hate that he makes an effort with her where he couldn’t be bothered with us. I hate that he’s found something normal and I’m left with the abnormal, with the unwanted attentions of a very married man, a boy who’s severely on the rebound after recently moving out of the house he shared with his now ex-fiance, and a middle-aged divorcee who scares the hell out of me and whom I’m afraid to be caught alone by at work in any situation.

I painfully crave a healthy, normal relationship with someone who respects me and can see beyond the exterior. Someone who loves me, not just lusts after me. I can’t even begin to describe how turned off I am right now at any man who looks at me as a tight piece of young ass. Every man who makes inappropriate comments, touches me in unacceptable ways or treats me as less just because I’m blonde draws me further and further into my shell. I become more sarcastic and think less of myself- in my eyes I become devalued and I hate what I am.

Hearing about Mr. Intellectual’s new and happy relationship has pierced my closely guarded heart. Emotions I had repressed and tried to forget about have welled up and welled over, leaving me vulnerable and fragile. When I’m extremely depressed all I want is for someone to hold me and tell me that it’s okay, that I can get through this. That the numbness will pass, the hollow feeling in my heart will go away and I’ll start to feel again. Instead I have a married man at work who grabs at me and makes inappropriate advances. I’m such a wreck that I don’t believe I’m worth more, or worth the effort to get him to leave me alone.