Hitchhiking for affection…
I was driving in my car the other day noticing the hustle. This girl on her cell phone, that man speeding, even grannie was tailgating me. Suddenly, everyone fascinated me. They were all so busy. I was looking at their faces, most people seemed to be pretty happy.
I had the sudden urge to pull over, exit my car, and jump into a dirty suburban holding three unruly children. I started thinking about the previous weekend when I watched my two-year-old niece all day. She had my attention with every move she made. I wanted to know if she was happy, hungry, tired, excited. I wanted to know if she pooped. Crazy.
The attention, the affection, the sincere concern I had for her…wasn’t obvious at the time. But as I drove through the city streets, making my way home for the day, I realized that this was something that I had never experienced. And it wasn’t even that notion that surprised me most, it was the fact that I wanted to feel it so badly. In fact, I didn’t just want it, I needed it. Who am I kidding, the feeling hasn’t moved tense yet. I need it.
I don’t want to pay for this affection. I don’t want to wonder if it’s real. For the first time in my life I do not object to affection, help, even caretaking. You want to put your needs aside for me? Hey, go ahead. In fact, I insist. Maybe leave out that bit about checking on my bathroom habits though….
Sadly, this doesn’t seem like a realistic need. We’re all supposed to be so independent right? This seems like a step backward and surely something to bring to my next therapy session.
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