Wednesday, February 15, 2017

The Human Touch of Another

The Human Touch can be the most quintessential thing that ever happens to anyone. The human touch can heal the human heart when one suffers such a devastating blow to their heart or mind. Feeling arms wrap around you when the world seems so cold, so bitter, filled with anger from others, can make one feel safe and at peace. Can the soul of one's eyes give the sense of the human touch? Can the eyes of another heal the broken heart of one that suffers in silence just by a glance, a wink, can it bring peace to the broken hearted?

Coming from someone that had such a divesting marriage to Felix, someone that never knew how to love, how to make one feel valued as a woman, I was craving that human touch. To feel the brush of a hand, the gentle touch that let's one know, "hey, I'm here and I love you" the soft tips of ones fingers trailing down your arms or that squeeze of the hand in yours telling you, "I love you" when that man places his hand on the small of your back then leading you around a filled room sending shivers up your spin.

The hug that one gives to another filled with hope, longing to be with you, when one misses you, when crawling into bed and clinging to each other in silence where no words needed to be said just the lingering touch of someone can send the most valuable message to one another.

The Human Touch of Harry

I remember when Harry dragged me out the back door of my mobile home. Placing his hand in mine part of me wanted to melt like butter in a hot skillet. The other part of me wanted to reach across and just slap the living day lights out of him. He just exuberated confidence, masculinity and sexuality that was just intoxicating. I could feel my power just draining then allowing myself to be with him. He placed me in the car slammed the door and climbing in on his side, we took off leaving the mobile home park. We never said a word or exchanged glances we just drove in silence. He drove us up to the most popular hill top in town. When looking out one could see the dancing lights of the town from the homes and the street lights below.

The night was crisp and cool one that would be great for snuggling in front of a warm fire. I could feel myself quickly wanting to forget about Goldie but I forced myself to remember why I was so angry. My stomach was twisting and turning my mouth growing dry, my thoughts jumbled with heavy anticipation of knowing just who Goldie was. I really didn't know what say to him. I remember just staring down at the floor boards of the car. I could feel tears forming in my eyes and slowly they began to drop. I had to know.

"So, who is Goldie and why did you go to San Diego with her?" I asked him. I could feel he was growing uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. I watched him grab the steering wheel of the car clenching it twisting his hands all over it then wiping the sweat from his hands onto his pants. I kept pressing for him to tell me between sobs and anger.

"She's someone that I have been living with for the past two years. But its not what you think."

(boy this is more difficult to talk about more than I thought. I just grow so angry over this but here goes)
I remember I stopped crying and wiping away my tears and looking at him with such disgust. And it all came out, I just unloaded!

"Oh, so let me get this straight, your living with some women named "Goldie" and its not what I think so let me guess, its just a sexual causal thing, so casual that you load up some luggage and take her to San Diego because let me guess, your just buddies right?" I remember Harry's face twisting and turning letting out heavy sighs as I continued barking my demands at him. He couldn't even look at me if memory serves me right. But I didn't stop there.

"You take me out daily, you want to know so much about me, your dying to know if I'm married and because why, to make your own guilt feel better? You tell me you love me over and over, you shower me with kisses and attention, buy me gifts, tell the world that you love me, but yet, its the people who don't know you, that is who you tell right? Yet, if you tell the people that do know you the most, it gets back to Goldie then the gig is up then right?"

Harry just continued to sit and not say a word, I mean what can he say and would I believe anything he does say? His silence was driving me crazy it was maddening for me to not know.

"Answer me asshole, tell me the truth now." I shouted at him. Harry took a long pause and then a long huff of air and turning to me he grabbed my hands to hold them but I jerked away telling him he didn't have the right to hold my hands any longer.

"Goldie and I met seven years ago and.." I interrupted Harry with a bold yelling stern to my voice, "seven years, you have known her for seven years wholly shit, seven years."

"Do you want to hear this or not?" he spattered back to me with an tone of anger to his voice.

"Oh I'm sorry, are you angry? You don't have the right to be angry only I do." I was so sarcastic with my words.

Harry continued, "we or I, have not been happy for the last year and for me, I have only been living with her out of convenience. I have tried to leave her so many times and each time I tried she threatened to kill herself. It was her way of keeping me in a loveless relationship. She knows my family, my kids, it's just a hard place to be in."

"Harry, I can appreciate the fact that you have tried to do the right thing, I get it, I do, but I have always said, if you want to go out and screw the world, do it single so no one gets hurt."

"I don't want to be with her, I want to be with you but, she already suspects that I am cheating on her and so when I had that job in San Diego, she begged to go with me. We got in a huge fight over it so to shut her up, I took her. I wanted to take you that was my plan, but it back fired on me."

Harry told me he was going to tell her about me, he wanted to continue seeing me, how he thought of me the entire time he was in San Diego, that he wanted to spend the night with me tonight making sweet love to me. He wanted to make up for what he caused me to feel.

And for some reason, I believed him. So, we went home.