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Her Touch | Sober and Unashamed
There is an incomparable purity in the relief I feel from her authentic touch.
I used to think the most relief available to me came from the euphoric feeling delivered by the second IPA. Alcohol provided relief, yes, but the emotional and cognitive sensations delivered by a toxin are anything but pure or authentic.
Her touch, though, carries with it unspoken messages of security, trust, and approval. I study emotional intimacy, physical intimacy, and sexual satisfaction. Intimacy is a misunderstood word often used as an inaccurate substitute for the word, “sex,” when the speaker or writer is too shy to utter or scribe those three taboo letters. Physical intimacy, for example, is most often assumed to mean sex. The touch I am describing is the most intimate physical contact I can imagine, and it does not involve erotic organs or regions. It is the touch of connection as tightly bonded as hydrogen and oxygen in a water molecule. And equally life sustaining.
She most often touches my thigh with her fingertips. It is the outside of my thigh about midway up — not an inner/upper thigh touch meant for arousal. It is meant to convey the message that she is here, sharing this space, and that there is nowhere she’d rather be.
