Hungry for your touch
“In my shadowy place of want, there is guilt, because he loves me and that isn’t enough; and shame – that my need for his skin against mine is somehow grubby and should be hidden”
Distressed for hours before dawn filters into my bedroom, I realise that I have run out of options in my relationship – I am unhappy and can endure it no longer. He rests with his back curved towards me just centimetres away but the small space between us is a chasm. He is not a tactile person, and I cannot bring myself to reach for the stilted embrace that is the most I can hope for from him. What I crave is what psychologists refer to as ‘contact comfort’, and it is considered as essential for human beings as food and water. It’s not about sex, although many of us use sex as its conduit.
In my shadowy place of want, there is guilt, because he loves me