I love hugs. Warm embraces that engulf your body in the pride of knowing that the warm presence of another wanted to impact yours. There forearms pressing down against your back, your rib cages swelling among each other, your cheek resting on the warm fabric of another. 

But now people say hugs are meaningless. They are embarrassing. They don't like the way it makes them feel. So I resent myself and keep my hands at my side.

I love saying I love someone. The frail word that intertwines those of all, something experienced by the many and the few, that makes the hot blood of another’s flush. Watching the other person smile and resentfully say it back, gleefully but kiddish, like learning to ride a bike for the first time without training wheels.

but now people tell me not to. They say they are scared it isn’t true, they tell me its weakening their sense of pride. So I pull back, and seal my lips from further pursument. 

I love long walks. Whether the sun or moon dangles in display in the sky, endless hours of talking under the luminescent light never seems to cease. About the future, or past, the chitter chatter seems to fill the air and time till the breathy remnant ceases to stop.

but now people don't want to go for walks. They say they don't like to talk about the past or future, it stresses them out. They would rather just watch a movie instead. So I remain, and keep my legs still.

I stand outside of it all, watching and staring, my legs, arms, and lips, paralyzed by the thoughts and morales of others. My passions and desires seep into my woodworks of veins and flesh, and pump out through my pores. How I wish I could learn to lose this feeling that I feel so deeply.

But I can’t help it. It’s too strong. So I will continue to hug, and say “I love you”, and go on long walks. I will continue to let this passion roar through me, and my fingertips as I write this. Because I love them. I love experiencing them. I love enjoying them. 

But mostly, I just love to love.