Hugs.

"There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it.  Or you kill yourself.  Or you stop looking in mirrors." - Tennessee Williams.

Sometimes you just miss someone.

It sort of takes over your whole body.

Your arms are sore.  It's like they remember what it feels like to be wrapped around that person, and they ache because they're empty.

Your head feels heavy.  There is no tight chest-space for it to be squeezed against in big, encompassing hugs. No trunk-like shoulder to rest it on in moments of quiet exhaustion.

Hugs are the most beautiful invention of physicality that human beings share.

Sometimes when you are a hopeless cuddler, you just need a hug to make the world a little less loud.

Rarely does that special hug come your way right when you need it.

Every now and then, it does.  I can remember a few specific moments in my life where hugs have literally shown up in the exact moment I needed them to, and changed life as I knew it from that point forward.

More often than not, though, you end up pacing the floor of your room back and forth, staring at old pictures and pulling at the sore muscles in your neck, wishing for a pair of hands to work out the knots that you work tirelessly to re-create time and time again, without meaning to.

You rub your eyes.  You refuse to sleep.

There's books on your bedside table- you're tired of reading someone else's words.

Sometimes I take a look at my own life and I realize how hopeless I am.  I complain all of the time.  I wish for things I don't have.  I waste so much effort and breath talking about how hard my own life is- and how tired my own body feels, and how restless my own mind gets at night.

How can I ever expect to love and serve someone else before myself?

I am so overwhelmingly selfish.

I complain constantly.

Contentment is a constant struggle.

How did I end up like this?

Why is it so hard to be comfortable and content with your own life?

Why is greed such an all-consuming temptation?

All of these questions just make me hug my pillow tighter, wishing for one of those hugs with all of my might- until I start to pray out my wishes, fears, temptations and lost battles.

Sometimes I talk to you through my prayers.  Sometimes I talk to my grandmother.  Sometimes I just lay here, asking God a million-and-one questions, all-the-while apologizing repeatedly for being so discontent with not knowing any of the answers.

I know several people in my life who would tell me this is a control problem that I have.

I know that they are all right.

Where do control problems come from? Where do they go?

How can I stop my head from spinning around and around like a merry-go-round?

I just want to get out of the psycho circus for awhile.  So I lay my head down on my pillow and I let my tired eyes drift off into a white sort of slumber.

Tomorrow brings new possibilities of joy.  Tonight I dream of my favorite embraces.

"God, how I ricochet between certainties and doubts." -Sylvia Plath.