I Feel Like a Carebear

I forgot how to hug you. It's the dumbest thing to forget how to hug someone, I know, but our hugs were always different. I can't believe I forgot.

Hugs are a simple but good thing. They are an easy way to show affection. Not necessarily romantic affection, but the affection between friends. They're a physical representation that we like or love someone, as well as a symbol of our respect and admiration of them. I realise I'm putting a lot of weight behind such a simple gesture but this is what I have found hugs to mean. A gesture of love.

But our hugs were anything but simple, weren't they? I wouldn't say they were romantic. No, they weren't that. But they were more than friends showing care for one another. After a hard week of work and school and the various problems life brings, when we finally embraced on Sunday, everything just stopped. There was no stressful job to return to tomorrow. There was no paper due much too soon to be finished properly. There was nothing but you and me, holding so tight it was sometimes hard to breathe.

And that's partially what I forgot. Not only did I forget the physical way we hug, which is different than the way I hug anyone else, but I forgot the emotional way we hug. I forgot how it felt. I forgot how it made me forget all the shit. I forgot.

Heh heh... I made it awkward on Sunday, didn't I? You're so small and I leaned down to hug you like I would hug anyone else but you pushed past my faulty gesture, wrapped your arms around me and squeezed, your head tight against my chest. In all honesty, I was surprised at that and for the briefest of moments, I didn't know what to do. Then, like a rush of water, it came back. My arms went around you and I squeezed back. Our embrace didn't last as long as they used to, but it held just long enough to know that it was more than just a hug. More than just two friends showing care for one another. It was weighted with memory. With every hug we've ever shared. With every chance meeting of our eyes resulting in laughter. With every sick call I made so we could spend those summer evenings sitting in the grass or in the swings, pumping our legs to go higher and higher.

I forgot how to hug you. It's the dumbest thing to forget how to hug someone, I know, but our hugs were always different. I can't believe I forgot. But you reminded me. You never forgot, it seems. Thank you. Hopefully, this is the start of something good between us. At the very least, it's the restart of the good we once had.