Cuddles

This was the text.

BABE, I NEEEEEEED CUDDLES!

Thinking about it, the idea makes me sick.

I'm someone's babe? She needs cuddles?

What the fuck?!

But.

I saw this article and it reminded me of her.

Here's the main takeaway:

You’ve heard of the cuddling hormone, right? Well, that’s a real thing. “Specifically, what is referred to as the cuddle hormone, or the love hormone, is oxytocin,” Stephanie Wijkstrom, MS, LPC, NCC, certified counselor and founder of Counseling and Wellness Center of Pittsburgh, tells SheKnows. Oxytocin is a neurotransmitter and hormone, and upon consensual touch, oxytocin is dumped into our synapses and makes us feel love, calm, and connection.

So, sure, I've "cuddled" before. And yes, I give (and receive hugs) to some degree.

Kissing? YES!

Hugs? YES!

Arm around you during a movie on the couch? Sure!

But... but...

I HATE being touched, as a general rule

It makes me feel … weird. Vulnerable. Scared.

I've tried, I promise I have.

I know why.

I wish I didn't.

I wish those things hadn't happened.

The touching then... as a kid … was always violent. Always pain … always punishment.

And I couldn't make it stop.

So, as an adult, I just stopped it.

No one can touch me. I will touch no one. This way, I won't get hurt.

Yes, I have sex. HOT, incredible, orgasmically delicious sex. And sure, there's a bit of cuddling and touch after, too. Usually.

But I've never met anyone I felt safe with … not safe enough to let go. Not safe enough to just cuddle.

Until I met her.

I hugged her the first time we met.

I'm going to type that again:

I HUGGED a woman the very first time I met her. I hugged her hard. Absorbed her.

It felt … amazing.

Our second date ended with a kiss... she kissed me... I kissed back. I probably felt desperate. But she forgot her keys in my car.

And then.

There was THAT night.

I thought that would be the night.

We'd kiss, and hug, and talk, and laugh, and end up fucking like mad because we both wanted it, wanted each other. And it'd be like the sex I'd had before. Hot, intense, amazing.

But.

We didn't.

We didn't have sex.

We were both basically naked and in each other's arms and it started before midnight and ended at around 7 because she looked at the clock and I had a meeting and she reminded me.

She couldn't stop kissing me, holding me, gripping my shoulders with her long, pale fingers.

I couldn't get enough of her. All of her. Her body steaming hot against mine.

We'd stop and breathe and then start again... kissing and touching and as close as we could be without...crossing that line.

And then she held me... and I held her

And she fell asleep on my chest...and no one had ever done that. Not with me.

And I'd never let go before.

Not like that.

I was open, vulnerable, hungry, desirous.

I was 43 years old.

Typing that hurts.

Yes, I chose to respond like that... to shut down rather than face the chance of negative touch.

But, the truth is, no one EVER made me feel like that. No one ever made me feel safe. Before we'd met, I felt safe. I KNEW she would never hurt me. And I let go.

I let go.

I want to apologize for being … distant, for shutting down. But, I shouldn't. I was good to all those who knew me and I am good to all who know me. Just, well, not up for lots of touching.

But, I've been a good partner, a good lover, a good friend to those who came before her.

She chose a different path.

And I understand.

I do.

I didn't think I'd ever be open like that... I never thought I'd want that... want to be touched, crave it. I didn't think that … that true intimacy was for me.

But she showed me... opened me... let me know.

I CAN give all of me.

That doesn't mean I'm going to just immediately feel safe.

But, she let me know that I can.

Now, I crave that touch... with someone safe.

It's like the first time you have sex... and then you're like "I want that... that... all the time."

My first truly intimate experience happened at 43. I have never felt that close to someone... no, it wasn't just "making out" like you do in high school or college.

It was two people who wanted each other...wanted to be close to each other... were desperate and hungry for each other.

Two people who held each other and looked into each other's eyes and saw the other's soul.

No matter what...

If I never see her again...

I will be forever thankful for her.

If this never happens for me again, I will never forget...and I am so, so glad it happened.

How do you say "thank you" to someone who opened your soul?