I can handle being alone. Being “single” is just fine and I often think that this is how I would prefer to live. Loading the dishwasher in the way I deem to be correct is truly satisfying. Dancing spastically in the kitchen while the kids sleep and not concerning myself with looking coordinated or even sexy is fabulous.

But not having any physical contact with another adult human sucks. Badly.

In the months after Jeff died, people would hug me or rub my back as I stared blankly out a window. My daughter, five years old at the time, was perpetually snuggled next to me as she feared losing me in an instant as she had her beloved daddy. My one year old son was still breastfeeding and slept in my bed. Although I missed Jeff and every small thing about him, I was still often in close physical proximity to others.

After six months, the comforting embraces had dwindled and only my little ones continued to absentmindedly touch my skin and gently stroke my face as they surrendered to slumber.

I remember going to the hairdresser and blinking back tears as she softly brushed my hair. It was not erotic or sexual in any sense….It was just that at that moment, I was worthy of being touched by another human being.

Occasionally, my sweet friend would offer her husband up for a hug as he was large and burly like Jeff had been. I know it terrified him, but I would desperately sob into his chest as I imagined being held by Jeff’s safe and strong arms. It was horribly humbling to be embraced by someone who was doing so, not because they desired this, but out of obligation to their wife….and embarrassing. But I still accepted those hugs.

Now, three years later, I am quite happy being on my own. I enjoy making my own decisions and choosing which path our little family should follow. I am comfortable with my own company and am truly never bored.

But, at times, I ache to be touched. To have someone push back the hair from my cheek or nonchalantly brush my arm with theirs. Just to have another person value my physical presence and find me attractive enough to want to touch me. I want to smell someone’s neck as they embrace me within their strong arms….not out of duty to their wife, but because they want to.