I fought with the napkin dispenser as I waited for my order to be ready. He must have seen me struggling and came up behind me. He pushed the napkin holder and with a swift of his hand he took out a stack of them.

“Here” he said. With my back still to him I felt my heart sink. I recognized that voice. It took only one word. But I knew it well. And when I turned around and the scent of his cologne caught my nose I was embraced by the past. “Hey you”. I acted surprised, he didn’t know how good I’d gotten at lying.

“Hey Miriam, how have you been?” he said.

“Great, and you? How’s your family? Your niece?..” I stopped myself. And just grinned I was nervous for no apparent reason. Other than I always felt as a fool when I stood in front of him.

He began to tell me about his family, and work. We even took to a stool to wait for both our drinks. I knew there was a lot of catching up to do. But I wasn’t paying attention to the dialogue. I was staring at him. My first love. The man whose heart I’d broken. And the one I paid my dues for. His eyes were gleaming, and he seemed happy. His spirit was light while mine weighed heavy. But I smiled and I pushed through.
“Mango-a-gogo with wheat grass for Miriam” the employee interrupted.

“Guess that’s me”. I went up to the counter and picked up my drink. I sat it down on the table we were talking and began saying goodbye. Something about being late, and having to get somewhere. He stood up and for the first time in years gave me a hug. A real hug. Not a “Good to see you” one arm hug. But an embrace, an “I care for you regardless” embrace.

I cringed in those few seconds. I’d been so long since anyone had hugged me. Really hugged me. It felt awkward an unfamiliar. And yet warm and inviting. I batted my eye lashes and gave him one last smile before walking out of the store. He didn’t have to know how wounding that embrace had been.

I got to my car. And I sat in the driver seat not going anywhere for a while. I just busted into tears. I’ve been feeling so lonely these days. So out of touch with the world. That when somebody touched me it nearly broke my heart. It could have been anyone. Anyone could have hugged me that day and it would have had the same effect.

That type of loneliness should be illegal. There was deep melancholy sorrow pouring out of me. It made it painful to breathe, to think. I’d been sweeping everything under a rug for the past weeks that it had all finally caught up to me. And all it took was one hug.

Have you ever walked into a room and not felt physically alive, till someone touched you or said your name? I feel like that often these days. Like a dusty arm chair in the corner of a crowded room.

That night as I laid in bed I realized one undeniable truth. I felt terribly alone. Left to fend for myself, I wasn’t doing a good job. I was muddling through. Moving but getting nowhere. I closed my eyes. What I wanted more in the world was to be wrapped in someone’s arms. To hear the beating heart beat of another. To feel wanted. And needed. Because maybe then I’d believe I was still alive.