I Mean, Who Likes Hugs Anyway?
I mean, who likes hugs anyway?
Yeah, yeah, ok, sure, I know you do. You, specifically.
But you aren't me, and I'm not you and so we're just going to have to try to understand each other a little bit ok?
First off, hugs are indeed a quality greeting. I can 100% admit that.
A welcome embrace, a hey, what's up homey, or yeah yeah, been too long, type of thing.
And who doesn't appreciate a quality hippie smash, two arms outstretched, as if dive-bombing a fighter plane; hell, it could be a side hug or a hug from behind, for all I care - as greetings of affection, hugs are more than a handshake, and twice a fist bump.
But a confession: I can't really feel a damn thing here. I mean, yeah, obviously, I know I'm being hugged, I'm not like numb or novocaine'd or lacking in sensation or anything.
So, there you are, embracing me; and there I am, embracing you. And well, there's certainly a pressure, a heaviness of our body's hanging off each other; you're lovely, but really you're just, well, just a weight at that point. That's about as far as it goes for me, there's no serotonin rush, no oxytocin, no dopamine hit, no brilliant feeling of satiation or emotional stability or connection.
All of you preach this shît, and I'm left holding this bag of sameness.
Every morning, my wife, bless her dear lil' heart, makes us hug for six seconds as we're having coffee or getting our day situated.
She notes it a form of maintaining connection. I say makes as if it's miserable, but it isn't; no really, I don't mind it at all - I may even consider it nice. (And, yes, ok, sometimes, I may be secretly looking at my phone behind her back, please don't tell her, this part may upset her.)
To what do I owe this lack of hugginization (not a word, or at least not officially, but it can be for us, because we can do whatever we want here).
Well, I've surmised it likely isn't a raging case of haphephobia, because generally I'm just fine being touched. However, as a child I used to rock myself to sleep, going uh unnn, uh nnn, uh unnn over and over as I crouched on all fours. Also, I can admit that during waking hours I would flap my arms if I became excited; this particular behavior I largely have in check as an adult, but now you might find me baby birding if I become euphoric, say, during a peak of music at a concert.
(What? What's that? You know, baby birding, like a baby bird opening and closing its mouth, awaiting food from it's mama. Oh, btw, I tend to sorta blackout when this happens, not that there's anything wrong with that, is there?)
More recently, my wife tried to put one of those cooling mattresses on our bed, so we could apparently sleep at just the right temperature.
The contraption pumped cooling water into water tubes that ran in a hexagon pattern in a mattress topper.
Everything started off just fine, but then I dreamt that I was lying on a chain link fence, and was a piece of bacon frying, stuck as if to an unseasoned grill.
Do I wish I could feel a hug the way you do? Well, I dunno. I mean other people seem to like them just fine. Others talk of a hug as fulfilling or reducing stress or anxiety. I suppose I should say I wished I could, but I don't know what that really means, because if I can't really feel a hug the way you do, then how could I honestly say that I want to feel that?
So, should we meet, and should we hug, know that I would gladly hug you back - and while I may not feel all the feels you do, we can share in the situation that is, and be content with whatever it is we each get out of it.