A Loving Universe Is Not Enough

Acknowledgment of a loving universe is not always enough. Especially when that acknowledgment is a hidden denial of the necessity for human experience. I am a physically dependent person with an addictive family history. I am addicted to physical connection, if not emotional ones as well. However, at the moment, I am concerned with the scarcity of contact in my world. I have a feeling that I probably worry some friends (female) with the frequency and duration of physical contact that I seek from them. I hug hello. I hug goodbye. In between, I sneak little bits of skin; just enough to satiate me, and keep me alive. I hope that they don't always perceive this as a come on, as it only very rarely is. I am Superman, and the sun is touch. I feel that the bags under my eyes swell and droop and reveal my facial bones. The sadness is obvious in my brow, and I think my hands begin to shake. This must be apparent to others. I have come to believe that I would lay in a bed with just about any person, provided they were warm and assured.