This evening a massage therapist friend brought her portable table to my apartment and gave me a wonderful, relaxing massage.  At the end, when she was massaging my neck, I realized how much I’ve missed the everyday touches that I shared with Mike. He used to rub my shoulders almost every night before we went to sleep. We were always hugging and kissing, multiple times every day. Any time I needed to be touched, I could just put my arms around him and get one of the best hugs ever. I miss that. A lot. And I miss falling asleep in his arms…

I can’t remember the last time we made love, and that saddens me. I think it must have been the Friday night before he died, because Saturday night we had a show at Hothouse and didn’t get home until after 2:00 a.m… and on the next two nights he was too depressed to want much physical contact. I guess that after six years together, and still averaging five times a week, the details of every single lovemaking don’t stay etched in your mind.

I’ll always regret being too tired on our last night together and kissing him goodnight with a promise of good sex tomorrow night. He spooned me and I fell asleep in his arms, content, never dreaming that we wouldn’t have a tomorrow night. He was always willing to hold me, even when I woke him up in the middle of the night after a bad dream.

For the first week or so after Mike’s death, I could hardly stand to have any man touch me. A comforting hug from a friend or my brother trying to rub my shoulders made me want to scream. But now that’s shifting and I realize how much I miss hugging, being held, holding hands…

And damn it, I hate sleeping alone.

But it’s going to be a long while before I’m ready to be intimate with someone new, so I guess I’d better get used to it.


~ by hourbeforedawn on March 30, 2010.

One Response to “Touch”

  1. Oh how I know what your feeling. I am so sorry for your loss. I too have had the same type of loss. It has been a 1 1/2 and I am still in a fog.
    And yes I too hate sleeping alone.

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