To me, a hug is the most intimate thing—
more than a kiss,
more than words whispered in the dark.
It’s the silence between two heartbeats
when walls collapse
and breath is shared like trust.
I don’t let many near,
don’t crave the touch of just anyone—
but with you, I caved
like I’d been waiting
my whole life to be held.

Our hearts were the closest
they will ever be—
not in conversation,
not in memory,
but in that breathless pause
between your arms wrapping tight
and my worries letting go.

I’ve been so touch-starved
I daydreamed of what you gave so briefly.
You held me like I was meant to be there.
And then you left—
not knowing you took something
I’d barely just begun to believe I deserved.