Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

hugs for sale

Why is it that during the one time in life when you so desperately need to cling together, you pull apart? 

I spent a good bit of time cleaning the house today.  I also shopped for food and cooked dinner.  Stopped at the vet for the puppy’s weekly weigh in (44.8lbs today) and ran errands with the kids.  It was a busy day—the first one after the dreadfully long trip filled weekend.  And at the end of it, I find myself fighting back tears. 

I can’t explain it.  I just can’t find the words.  Ironic, I know.  Words are my thing, and I can’t come up with the right ones to convey the way I feel.  There is definitely a sense of being very alone at times.  Even when I know that I am not alone. 

I begin to wonder if this isn’t just a whisper of PMS creeping up on me.  I have been quite occupied with other matters; it could have snuck up on me.  I never did get that early PMS warning system that I was talking about, up and running. It would have come in handy.  But PMS or not, I feel a sense of desperation for comfort. 

Basically, I need a hug.

Funny isn’t it?  I devoted an entire blog on the subject of my “non-hugger” status, and here I am, less than half a year later, practically begging for a hug.  That doesn’t mean I’m likely to begin hugging total strangers at the supermarket or something totally crazy like that.  I’m not THAT desperate for a hug.

Truly, I just need the “hug speech.”  That’s what I call it.  It consists of having someone embrace you, rub your back, and tell you that everything will be alright.  Whether it will be alright is irrelevant.  It’s just necessary.  I’m thinking I should put this message on several Post-it notes and stick them around the house for “someone” to find. 

In times of great stress, when two people should be leaning on each other for support and comfort, it seems as if what happens is the complete opposite.  We tend to drift apart into our own worlds.  That doesn’t necessarily lead to tragedy, sometimes it’s a needed break.  But if it lasts too long, it’s very hard to recover from.  This worries me.

Am I overreacting?  Maybe…or probably…or maybe not at all.  See what I mean?  The words completely escape me. 

Maybe I just need to set up an old fashioned “hugging booth” where I’m on the inside, and people line up to hug me for a quarter.  Only I pay them, because who would pay a quarter to hug me?  I mean…I’m not even good at it.  I have become very good at crying lately though.  This is why I’m afraid I’m dealing with something more powerful than just family crisis.  I’m dealing with the dreaded hormone invasion, otherwise known as PMS.

And if I am…I should feel better in about a week.  See, there is light at the end of every tunnel.  I just wonder…what do you do if the light at the end of your tunnel is red?

I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Until the next time…I’ll be seeking out huggers for a little cheap attention!

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