Things that Hurt

Things that hurt. Love. Reality. No hugs.

Sometimes, it just rises up. A craving to be hugged by him. No comfort in the world compares to the comfort I get out of a warm hug by him. And it is then that I miss him the most. Him...sitting or standing half arm's length and the distance for a hug far away, miles away beyond the horizon of hope.

How powerful hugs are. And I think hugs really work because they are meant to give comfort, an assurance of peace and well-being. Bereft of his hugs, I find no comfort. No, not even in prayer. Damn.

I am an idiot. But yes, where hugs are concerned, I am an idiot and hell, I don't regret that.

Aw crap!

And then I see him give a huge hug to another woman...more than the feeling of jealousy, I feel a twinge of envy, endless emptiness and I miss him. Comfort. Sheer lack of it.

It is a rare happiness.

Dancing in his arms two night ago I felt my heart flutter, the pits of my stomach began a burning trail of a desire to keep dancing with him, in his arms, while I could touch his face, his neck, feel his breath burn my ear lobes ...I felt alive.

Ten minutes after we sat at the bar and he broke my heart again. He sipped his drink and then came up close to me and said "at least the dance takes care of the image of our marriage".

Oh my God!

Why?

Why? 

- Copyright Saanjh@2010