Friday, June 6, 2014


He reaches out for me and I feel refreshed. A hug. A pat on the back. The pressure of her hand on mine. 

That touch of care and tenderness. I'm not sure tenderness can be expressed without touching. Words just don't send the same message. Nothing like the touch of a hand. And I crave those feelings.

After all the years and episodes of "bad touches" you'd think I'd shy away from physical contact, but I don't. I want it so desperately, but am so afraid of what might come with it. But I'm learning that most of the hands reaching out to me these days are hands filled with love and hope and healing.

I'm still not totally comfortable with receiving what those hands offer, but I want it so badly! So if I cringe or flinch, don't misunderstand. It's not that I don't want it. I'm just still programmed to assume it may hurt. 

linking up with Five Minute Friday


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