Thursday, 15 January 2015

When a hug ignites a spark


There are different kinds of greetings which can vary greatly depending on your cultural background and the person you are facing at that moment.

There can be a handshake.
That double kiss on the cheeks.
A bow.
Or a simple hug.

Each of them has different levels of intensity as well. A handshake can be firm and reassuring, but sometimes it just feels like you are holding a dead fish.
And while a hug normally creates a rather intimate feeling, sometimes there remains some distance towards your partner.

To me it is normal to hug my friends when we meet and when we say goodbye. Normally it is a rather short, but sweet moment. However, when I hug one of my male friends, whom I see more often, it always feels kind of weird, as if he was reluctant to hug me.

Then, on Monday, I met a friend of mine by chance on my way to uni. We hadn't seen each other for a while, and even though we did not have very much time on our hands, we took a few minutes to walk together and catch up. Once it was time to separate we hugged, he pulled me really close and tight.
My scarf got caught in the buckle on the strap of his leather bag and almost ripped when I stepped back. We laughed a bit nervously and decided to meet up again (next Monday in case you're interested).

After our separation I could still feel the after-effects of this hug.
It was genuine and honest. Not one of those hugs where you feel like you have to do it, because of social conventions, because you really want it. Words were not necessary. This simple gesture alone expressed how happy he was to see me.
Maybe it's because he has a naturally genial disposition or because he was glad to see me in particular.
I don't know, but once he squeezed me so tight there was such a relieve inside my chest.

It is amazing how the feeling of human weight and heat against your body can create comfort and security and yes, even a bit of carelessness, because you just forget how bad the world can be.

I was always a bit of a sucker for heaviness.

Heavy blankets to keep me warm on a cold day.
A heavy body pressed to my back to support me.
Or just my pug lying on my lap fast asleep while I caress her.

I remembered that night over two years ago, when we were at a friends party.
Almost everyone else was already gone, and we kissed. It was cheesy, but nice.
We often met up again, but we never kissed again.
It is one of those weird relationships where you always feel that certain kind of curious tension, withrout crossing the edge.

Maybe because it is not necessary.
Maybe because you're scared.

Isn't it amazing how one simple action spark a blazing fire of feelings and thoughts?

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