Alone

I was thinking the other day about physical touch, and how people who aren't alone - I don't mean single people; but people who live without anyone else, period - probably have no idea what they have. Family, even friends - lovers, dorms, roommates, spouses. Humans who live with humans touch every single day. Hugs, little gestures of the hands. I watch the physical affection of my nieces and their mom, my brother ... I watch the hugs of my mom and my stepfather. I think to myself, do they have any idea what it is they have? Can they even begin to understand its treasure?

I am scarcely ever touched by a person. The people I see most are my coworkers. The dog is dear, but I don't hug my friends at work. I don't hug my neighbors. I do not see my friends to speak of. I don't even see many acquaintances, with the infrequency to which my going out has fallen.

I was looking forward to going out this weekend. To talking with people, to hugging some of them, to dancing among them, to the press of darkness and people and noise. To being outside my empty home.

And now I will not only not have that, but I will be physically constrained in a second way. Unable even to control my body in my sacred space. I don't see from here how I'll be able to comfortably go to church. I'm trapped, untouched, alone. And the simplest thing is the most powerful trial.



This isn't said in sadness nor reproach, to anyone I love who reads this. I have chosen my position.

Frankly, it has its advantages.

But I miss the simple way X used to pump the gas on a rainy day, just because. I miss my father's hard-squeezing hugs. His big, warm hands. I miss the glomming, heavy, abandoned grabs of my nieces. I miss the breath of another human being.


Still. Earlier, I was listening to the sound of my dog snoring. A more peaceful sound, in this world, I can't submit to you.

Earlier, I was sitting on my Queen's Chair, the brief patch of sunshine all around, in this beautiful house.

It may not have a population beyond me and the Siddy, but this home is such a comfortable blessing.


***


D*mned thing still has those awful stairs in the middle of it, though. Gaaaaahh.