Picture this: I'm standing in the middle of a crowded supermarket, wedged between a suspiciously organized pasta shelf and a questionable stack of dented canned goods. And suddenly, it hits me—not the realization that I forgot my grocery list (again), but this overwhelming urge.
No, not for carbs. I desperately need a hug.
Not one of those flimsy, one-armed, "Great to see you, bye!" pats on the back. No, I’m talking about a real, soul-squeezing, “let me borrow some of your strength because I am running on empty” kind of hug. The kind that, if done right, momentarily convinces you that the world isn’t falling apart and that you are, in fact, doing okay.
Now, don't get me wrong. I am a fully functional adult. I can pay my bills, answer emails with alarming professionalism, and even pretend to understand tax documents. But sometimes—just sometimes—I want to revert to my 5-year-old self, wrap myself in the nearest blanket burrito-style, and demand to be held.
I’ve tried alternative solutions. Talking to my cactus, Bob, for example. But he’s a terrible listener and has serious boundary issues. Hugging my fridge? Cold. Unavailable. Just like my last crush. Even my stuffed bear, Mr. Fluffles, has started judging me. Every time I reach for him, he stares at me like, "Again? Sis, therapy exists."
And you know what? He’s not wrong.
Because behind the humor, behind all the ridiculous coping mechanisms, there’s always a little truth. A smidge of loneliness. A whisper of exhaustion. Some days, I feel like I’ve been put through life’s juicer, and all that’s left is pulp and the existential dread of realizing I need to clean the juicer.
The world is big, loud, and constantly moving, yet somehow, it’s ridiculously easy to feel invisible in the middle of it. To feel like you’re surrounded by people but not really seen by any of them. And isn’t that just the paradox of adulthood? We work, we socialize, we go about our daily lives—but when was the last time someone really asked, "How are you?" and actually waited for an honest answer?
So, if you see someone hesitating a little too long in the plush toy aisle, staring at a teddy bear like it might just hold all the answers to their problems, maybe cut them some slack. Maybe they don’t need another item in their cart. Maybe they just need a moment.
Or a hug.
Even if it’s just a metaphorical one.
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