h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

This might be a repeat, but too bad. It’s my journal and I can write what I want so there.

Kissing. I miss kissing someone when I get home. The “hi I’m home and I missed you” kiss. Or the slow tasting of another’s skin kiss. The ones that happen when you’re both laying in bed and you just need to remember what that person’s skin tastes like. Usually that involves me rubbing my face against them like a cat. The kisses that happen when no one is looking and it’s a quick stolen one. The good night kiss. The just because kiss. The look in their eyes when I kiss the palm of their hand. The soft gentle kisses of lazy afternoons. The hungry wolf kisses of pure unfed lust. The kisses that border on bites, just on that fine edge of pain and pleasure.

Touching. The gentle almost ticklish strokes of fingers running down my back. The tentative touching of hands braiding my hair. The smooth texture of cool skin sliding under my finger tips. The reassuring warmth of a loved body next to mine when I awake in the night. The accessibility of touching someone whenever I like. The casual finger touches when I walked by. The electric shock of finding skin touching skin. The times when it’s really too hot to touch because we’re sticky from the heat, but you just can’t resist anyway. The reassurance of a warm hand on my shoulder when I’m not feeling all that great. The warm reassurance of my hand on someone who’s not feeling all that great.

For the last 2 years I have made myself untouchable. A self denial for my self punishment. I cringe when people walk too close to me. I take a step back when talking face to face. I flinch when someone comes up behind me.

I would make a good tree.