When I love someone or something, I am all in. I'm there 100%. For good times and the bad times. I love loving someone.
But I hate the pain and betrayal I feel when they hurt me.
You see, I've began to realize something. I used to love hugs and the comfort that would come with them. But now, I can't stand having someone touch me.
At all.
If I don't initiate the contact, then I tense up and begin to hyperventilate.
I'm not totally sure when I started to hate being touched. To be held. But I do know why I don't like it. I love with everything that I am, with every fiber of my being. But the physicality of it, the hugs...they hurt. It's a way to get hurt.
Am I making sense? Or at least making the point that I'm trying? Maybe I should use an example...
I have an aunt who I am extremely close to. I love her so much that I cry because I can't always be with her. But she's also someone who has hurt me. Unintentionally. But still, I was hurt. She was an alcoholic; something I hadn't really known until I was fourteen. I mean, it kinda of helped that she lived in a different state and I only saw her maybe twice a year...But I guess I was old enough to know what was happening then.
I remember that she had gone to rehab for a bit and then I saw her a few months after that. When I was with her, I was afraid to physically be near her. Because I was afraid that she could disappear from me at any given moment. And it scared me. But she promised me that she was okay and that she wasn't going to drink anymore. And I believed her. I allowed myself to be held by her, to have her run her fingers through my hair(something that only she is allowed to do, anyone else, I slap). Everything seemed like it was okay. And it was. For two years.
In March 2007 I kept having this really weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like something horrible was going to happen. Me being the person that I am, freaked out and dialed my aunt's number. Nobody answered. Again, me = freaking out. I called a few more times. No answer. So I sat there and waited with the phone in my hand, tears falling because I was just so sure that something was happening. A week later I finally got ahold of my uncle. He told me that my aunt had gotten arrested for DUI.
I was so many things. Upset. Hurt. Pissed off. She lied to me. To me! Something I thought she would never do. I had to wait months to talk to her and hear what she had to say. I can't even remember the conversation. I just remember me yelling and crying.
I was hurt. And by having people touch me, hug me, is just a way to get hurt. They could disappear at any moment and I would be left alone. I remember the pain I felt when someone left me. I don't like hugs. I don't like being held. I don't like the pain I remember when someone touches me.
I'm not saying this all came from just her. It came from every person who has walked into my life and then walked out. Every person who has made an impression on me.
Again, I'm still not sure anything I wrote made any type of sense, but I tried. And that was the best I could do. Maybe this will simplify it:
Touching is a way to further an established relationship, whether it be friendship or something more. But the further it goes, the more pain it causes when it burns out. And I don't want to get burned anymore.
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