Comparisons are odorous.
Much Ado About Nothing, 3:5, Shakespeare
I submit two short vignettes for your consideration:
For several days late last year, we’d been home relaxing and celebrating the holidays. The children were (for once) amusing themselves admirably. The husband and I were watching tv. He was sitting in an armchair, legs outstretched on an ottoman. I sat on the floor at his feet.
Because I’m like a cat who can never be petted enough, I stretched one arm along his legs and the other arm up to his chest. I rested my head on his upper thigh. I essentially draped myself over him, hoping I suppose that he’d stroke my arm or take my hand or rub my hair or any of a dozen possible lovey-touchy-cuddly options.
He did not touch me. He kept his hands to himself. And he said, “Why are you touching me?” in a voice of complete disdain. I knew then without any doubt that with my particular emotional makeup, I could not stay in such a marriage without losing something essential, something I was not willing to go without.
Like an idiot, I cried. I turned my face away so that he couldn’t see. That was the moment that I knew with absolute clarity I’d need to leave the marriage. No matter how almost entirely certain I’d been before that moment, no matter how prepared I was, no matter how much I’d worked and planned–finally knowing it for sure broke me.
Another story:
My friend and I have fallen into the habit of showering together whenever possible after our obscenely long sessions of togetherness. It would be nice to think that this practice is all about the enticement of steamy shower-sex; in all honestly, it’s more about propping each other up because of shaky legs, dehydration, low blood sugar and et cetera.
Not long ago I stood in the shower with him at noon, utterly exhausted from staying up until 4:00 am and then waking up again before 9:00 am. I leaned against the wall as he soaped up my back as well as other places. Never are my other places so clean as when I shower with him.
And then my friend did something that I’ve never had a lover do for me before. He washed my hair.
It was lovely. And once again, like an idiot I cried, my face toward the wall so that in the moment he wouldn’t know. His lovingly thorough hair-washing touched me in a way that no amount of kissing, fisting or fucking could.
Out of all the sex we’d had in the previous day or so, the hair-washing was quite possibly the most intimate thing we’d done.
Yes, comparisons are odorous (odious, even) but sometimes The Comparison Fairy flits about my head unbidden.
Ah, this is so heartbreakingly clear. The contrast. Also, husband once washed my hair for me. You are so right, it’s a wonderfully tender thing. You deserve that and I am so glad you now have it.
Isn’t it amazing, how something so simple as human touch can mean so very much to us?
I’m glad that your friend is taking good care of you. You deserve it. We all do.
So this is my first post to you, dear aag. I have read your blog for almost a year now. I have watched your life change, in much the same as mine has in the past year, although my divorce was final in Feb.
My ex was essentially the female counterpart to your stbx. She had no emotion, no tenderness. Every physical outreach, every emotional connection attempted, every act of kindness, was met with disdain. Seeing you find someone who you connect with fills me with hope.
Thanks for your honesty, your openness, and your sense of humor!
Really, a comment is unnecessary. You have described the essence of your relationships quite elegantly.
When on the boat, Sailor Boy washes my hair (for all sorts of reasons), and it is truly the most intimate expression of love. And what a contrast from what I left. We have both been at both ends and are coming out into the light. Hugs to you, AAG!
I agree with Cherrie, there’s absolutely no way to convey the emotions you described in any better or more complete way.
I hope I can find someone that feels the same way you do about the things that really truly matter.
You’re a keeper.
That is so lovely and sweet and honest and open. Sometimes i feel like i’m silently screaming to be touched. You shouldn’t have to ask for a cuddle or stroke. x
Sometimes, comparisons are useful, if only to remind ourselves of what we have- and, what we shouldn’t have to tolerate.
I’m so glad for you, that you’ve found the loving touch you need, that we all need.
Touching communicates so much. There have been research that suggest infants who are touched more develop differently than those who are not touched. There are cultural difference concerning touch. Some people reach out and touch when conversing. We all need to be touched. Not sure why some are so afraid to commit to it.
I identified at every point of both vignettes. I’ve been in both places, although still physically stuck in the first. The contrast is impossible to ignore.
Its difficult to comment on your words because you cover all aspects of any discussion so eloquently, but just to add – it’s so touching to read of the special tenderness that washing anothers hair can induce tears and helps bond the loving intimacy between you two.
It is incredibly hard to keep away from comparisions…even when you know you should. I was just posting on that recently.
It’s so great that you’ve found someone who isn’t afraid to be truly intimate with you…not just have sex with you.
I totally get this. The more I read, the more I like your friend. He’s the one who’ll heal you.
And you quoted Shakespeare — a woman after my own heart!
I’d like to believe that one person could heal another person in this sense.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that we have to heal ourselves…
Somehow this post is linked in my mind to one you did about gifts. I’m pretty you just received a gift – and it wasn’t even on your list ;)
In any case, I’m happy for you.
Haaaaaaa
“Why are you touching me?â€
Stb-ex reminds me of a baby monkey who was separated from his mother for some useless experiement. He spent his brief adulthood sitting in a corner of the cage, averse to the touch of others while resolutely pulling out tufts of his own fur.
I am happy that you have now found a man who genuinely knows how to monkey around. ;-)
My dear friend there are times when I feel as if you’re in my head and heart, writing the words that I can not.
Beautiful. I am so happy that you were able to experience that closeness, and have found someone that does touch back, does pet, and does make you happy.
I felt similar when I was dating a guy, and we took a shower, and he let me shave his face. It wasn’t a huge thing at all, but I felt so close to him…feeling the angles of his face, being intensely careful so as not to accidently cut him.
It’s interesting what is intimate for different people…
I feel extraordinarily lucky to have had the men in my life always wanting to touch me and be intimate with me. Not that it completes my full gambit of requirements to stay in a relationship, but it doesn’t hurt at all.
I guess at this point, you know you’ve been loved, physically in an emotional way. That is a powerful moment, and I’m happy you had it.
Your second vignette brought tears to my eyes.
I’m completely sure why. I think it has to do with selflessly reaching out to someone.
I’m at work, so I too had to turn away.
But I do know I will be washing my lover’s hair very soon.
I also know, as with the certainty of the first story, that I’m a reader of yours for life. It’s from suddenly syncing up with you in not completely conscious or expected ways. It’s happened to me before and I love it when it happens. Thanks!
Some people understand the power of touch while others never seem to get it. Although, I often wonder at those who don’t want to be touched…what are they afraid of?
In those two vignettes, you show the differences in selfish vs. unselfish people.
the differences are there….i dont even know what to say. *sigh*
xoxo
I think people who are afraid to be touched are afraid of intimacy.
And people who are afraid of intimacy are afraid of loss.
Loss is hard. For many people it’s unbearable or at least almost unbearable. (Me included.)
On the other hand, there’s Last Call.
You know, I think some people just don’t need as much touch as others do. I’d prefer not to think of it as pathological.
How come everyone else knows how to include links in my comments and I don’t?
Dammit!
:)
Yeah, I was painting with a wide brush.
I think it’s, as always, a matter of degree, and only at the extremes is it pathological.
I have always needed touch as a part of a relationship. My ex didn’t like to be touched or do any touching. He grew up with his father, who isn’t touchy at all, and he has really sensitive skin. But I needed it, non sexual and sexual. He couldn’t give it. So here I am with a guy who will lovingly touch me, hold me every chance he gets and it still makes me cry to this day.
It’s nice having a friend who is drawn to you — INTO you.
Just like it must have sucked to be married to someone who wasn’t in the least. I’m glad you made the right decision.
*warm hugs*
>>I’d like to believe that one person could heal another person in this sense. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that we have to heal ourselves…
In one sense it’s true that only we can heal ourselves, yet touch and love can both do wonders to get the ball rolling.
While the atomistic model of the individual is often useful in this tough world, even atoms can vibrate in resonance with those nearby. There are energy fields in us and around us, and our choice of friends and lovers changes our energy, for better or worse.
Washing hair is one of specialties,,,wanna know what the others are??
Yes. Yes I do want to know!
Wait, don’t I already know your specialties??