Hugs are amazing.
I suppose I should correct that statement to: Hugs from certain people are amazing.
I have a bubble. I don’t let a lot of people into my bubble, but sometimes, I’ll let a few people in.
I’ve always been a stand-offish person when it comes to physical contact. I don’t particularly like to be touched.
Some people though just have such a warm presence, such a sincere heart that radiates from them. I can’t help but let down these guards.
Today, I got the best kind of hug. The best hug in eight months.
What kind of hug?
The kind that implies the possibility of something more. The kind that kindles my hope again.
The kind of hug that makes me feel wanted. Beautiful. Like I’m more than just a sack of bones going around, talking to people, making useless connections and acquaintances.
The kind of hug that reminds me that there is something else lying dormant in my heart.
The kind of hug that shows me that not all pursuits will be unfruitful.
He hugged me, and he picked me up as he hugged me. I giggled quietly, just loud enough for him to hear me I think.
His hugs are always the best… but now, even still, they’re even better.