I’ve been clingy lately. I need lots of hugs. I spontaneously put my head on people’s shoulders. I’m like a dog who keeps nudging you with his nose: Pet me, pet me. If I see an open lap, I have an overwhelming urge to lay my head down on it. Like a little kid, I wish someone would just stroke my hair.
I was helping my friends move this weekend. We sat down for a rest after carrying their mattress upstairs to their bedroom.
“We’re gonna have to switch sides again,” said my friend to his girl.
“Why?’ she asked.
“Cuz now your side of the bed is closer to the door. Anyone coming through that door is gonna have to go through me before they get to you, so we’re switching.”
My instinct was to laugh. I’ve been alone in a bed at night for so long, a thought like that would have never passed through my mind. I wanted to scoff like the feminist I was raised to be, but for some reason… I was jealous instead.
I wanted someone to feel that protective of me.