Cold Nights

(I wrote this in Jan 2017. Probably around the 23rd or the 24th … on a cold night)

Sometimes at night I feel so cold. I imagine someone hugging me. I think I try to imagine it so hard, as if if I try hard enough, maybe I could actually start to feel it. But I never do. And I stay cold.

There may be only very few nights during which I don’t think about this; intimacy. The intimacy that I’ve been wanting my whole life but never deserved to have. Everyday I wonder: why is it too much to ask to be liked enough by someone who would genuinely want to be close to me and touch me, and not because I pay them to do it? I must be so disgusting and repelling. Or perhaps just very unlucky. It just breaks my heart every time I feel that no one wants me like that.

Our bodies and minds have remarkable capabilities of healing and growing stronger tolerance for pain. Why is it then that I can’t seem to adapt to this pain? Why do I have to feel it as intense and excruciating as I first did as a child, every single time?

And then when you think it’s not possible, the night becomes cooler. When I remember all of the people who hurt me, who rejected me, who hated me, who let go of me …

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