Dear various people who have asked me, “What is the worst part about being a long-distance relationship?”
I always go on a long spiel about not being able to see the other person or miscommunication blah blah. But really, what I miss most is having to wait months apart for a hug. There’s something about hugs that strike me as more intimate than any other form of physical contact.
I like the way two bodies can press so closely that you can feel the heartbeat of the other person. I like the way the warmth emanating from the other person encompasses you, shrouding the bodies in a shared energy. I like the way the tell-tale sign of the relationship is in the arms. Backs are casual. Shoulders traverse the in-between. And waists, waists are sacred territory. I like the way a hug is good enough on its own, whereas there is the expectation of something more following a kiss.
I believe humans share a universal desire to be touched. Perhaps this desire is borne from a lingering memory from when we were infants, swaddled safely in the arms of our mothers. Hugs tell you everything is okay now. That you are safe. That you are loved.
So yes, that I have to accept verbal assurances as the best alternative to this physical connection is one of the worst parts of a long distance relationship. Which is why, the ‘run-towards-each-other and throw-yourself-into-their-arms-without care of judgement’ is also the most magical feeling in the world in my opinion.