Hug Me

I've never read the Love Languages book, but I'm sure that if I did it would tell me that physical touch is mine. I need touch. Holding hands, a hand around the shoulders, a gentle pat, and especially hugs.

I love hugs. Big hugs. Long hugs. Short hugs. Strong hugs. Lots and lots of hugs.

I love the giddy, squealing hug when you haven't seen somebody for a long time.

I love the happily humming hug of a good friend, inspired by nothing but the fact you're in a hugging mood.

I love the warm, strong, lingering hug that says you really care.

I love hugs.

But lately I haven't had so many hugs. This just isn't a hugging culture, but rather, a kissing culture. A kiss on each cheek is all you get. A kiss on the cheek can be affectionate, provided it's a real kiss. But often times it's nothing but a light brush of the cheek and a kissing noise. When it is a real kiss, as good as it may be, it's too brief. Occasionally you might be blessed by a kiss/hug combo. Those are the best, but very, very rare.

I realize that for my American friends the idea of kissing your friends may seem weird (tee hee, but for some of you maybe not so much - you know who you are), but I've learned to appreciate it. Yet I still long for the physical contact of a hug, for a friend to cuddle up with on the couch, to be able to walk arm and arm with my girlfriends...

I'm sure there's a very important lesson to be learned from all of this with plenty of spiritual applications about satisfying myself in the Lord and all that lovely goodness, and I hope that I'm the model pupil, but when the bell rings for passing period, can I please get a hug???