It's really quite amusing to me when you realize how desperate you are to be touched. It seems as if touching would be the most basic, human part of one's marriage, life. In my life, due to time constraints, struggles, and the pure exhaustion that follows a day of chasing a little girl (or 58 employees in my husband's case); it doesn't come all that easy. I dare say my husband and I try to snuggle up on the couch while he does homework or I read and relax, but with the laptop doing its job of sitting on the lap, snuggling doesn't always come easy.
The other night as I wearily made my way to the bathroom for my end-of-day routine my husband met me at the door with the most incredible hug EVER to be had. He slid his hands under my white cotton t-shirt, lifted me off the ground with his masculine, well-defined arms and back, and just held me there for a moment. It was passionate, touching, and reached into my soul to give my spirit something it so urgently needed - love. It felt damn good to have that kind of passion if only for that single moment.
I haven't been able to get it back sense, that hug, that passion, which I guess is why it so amuses me when you realize how desperate you are to be touched.
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