I long to be hugged. Hard. To be held. Gently. The threads between my shoulders tighten if I think about it too much. I remember the last time my skin touched another person’s in excruciating detail, the last time someone wrapped their arms around me, held me, comforted me, leaned in to kiss me, the soft skin of their lips making the connection with mine. I replay the tape as I’m waking up most mornings, just to remember what it feels like. Then I do some cardio to forget and take a long bath because it’s as close as I can get to an embrace.