It feels like telling a secret
“I remember the cozy feeling I had when I was sleeping next to my mom while my dad was nodding off in the living room. My mom would turn her back to me and I would hug her. But my arms weren’t big enough to show her how much I loved her. So, I would hug her with one of my legs too, which would hang over her thighs, since they were too tiny to completely wrap around her. Naturally, my mum would hold my foot in her palm. She was doing that with utmost love, and that was the only way I could fall asleep.
She still remembers those moments of intimacy, and we both miss them, of course. Even now, as a grown-up, I sometimes feel the need to do that with the person sleeping next to me, but I don’t do it. It’s not the same, and it somehow feels like telling a secret that’s only ours to keep.”
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