Can't Touch This!

So, apparently with Lent going on I unintentionally gave up my idea of a sexual life. Ok, who are we kidding, any resemblance of a sex life went away waaay before Lent started. With work, stressing about multiple life issues and just trying to maintain, I apparently neglected the fact that it’s been awhile since I’ve been with someone. I think I had been in some sort of selective denial about my lack of fun and have mentally blocked it out. Sort of life how accident victims block out traumatic events. Ok, maybe not that extreme, but it kind of feels reminiscent.

Anyways, I was doing my daily commute into the city on Friday and I value the “me” time that my bus rides afford me in the morning. It’s a brief moment before I walk into my job where I am able to sit, read, listen to music and simply just enjoy my time. Therefore, I usually try to avoid people if at all possible on the bus. However, given the bus route I take, it’s nearly impossible since buses are usually crammed full of people. So, I managed to wrangle a seat in the very last row of the bus near the window. Perfect spot. I pull out my book, listen to my Q-tip and I’m in the zone. I notice the bus starting to fill up and suddenly realize that I’ve lost my “me” space and someone has sat next to me. But then something slightly magical happens. I’m sitting there and suddenly I feel a slight pressure on my left side. Now, before you start thinking all kinds of weird things, let me explain something about men and women sitting on the bus. Women, we tend to cram all of ourselves and our million bags into our tiny two foot space on the bus, whereas men, they sit in a seat and spread themselves out until kingdom come. Therefore, as I’m pushed up against my window, the body of a man is leaned up against my leg. Under normal circumstances this annoys and irritates the hell out of me. But this time I felt this odd sensation, sort of like a long exasperated “Ahhhhhh, FINALLY!” from my body. As I sat there for the remainder of the ride I thought…”Well, that’s the most action I’ve seen in a long time.”

The point of this story is not the fact that I sound ridiculous sad and desperate, but really the idea of touch. In any given day we touch and interact with people hundreds of times a day without ever realizing it. Gentle grazes when two people reach for something at once, the bumping into one another on the subway, or the really intimate touches like giving your loved one a kiss in the morning that we tend to take for granted.

What I realized in that moment on the bus was not simply my realization of not getting any, but the even more devastating fact that it’s been awhile since I’ve felt the sensation of touch. When I think about it, 99% of my days go without hugs, kisses, embraces, and simple touches of comfort. Being open to real touch seems so much more difficult to me these days. To be fully open and willing to have someone hold me, cherish me and brush my hair to the side, that’s the touch that I desperately want but am so terrified to feel. I fear simply because it opens up a whole new vulnerability that has been closed for years. Deep.

So, nothing super witty there, but it’s still that whole concept that touch is so taken for granted these days where people are clamoring for personal space, particularly in a city like Manhattan where space is coveted and difficult to find. Maybe that’s why people think New Yorkers are so cold and distant. To New Yorkers, the distance and coldness simply arises out of the fact that we’ve developed outershells and walls around us to protect our seemingly tiny amount of space that exists around us. Therefore, when you are bumped into, anger arises more often than not. By protecting that space we are selfishly claiming a piece for our own, but at the same time the imaginary walls being built are pushing distance between everyone you encounter. So, maybe touch should not be something taken for granted. If you are fortunate few who have the opportunity to encounter touch with someone you love, cherish it. Embrace the tingles, the odd sensations, the fast pulse and the inner feeling of excitement. Don’t bury it, or desensitize it, but be present with that feeling and ride it out…even if it’s only on a bus ride to New York City.