Monkeys Under the Skin�

2002-10-24

I've been hugged rather more than I'm comfortable with in the last few days. I'm appreciative of the sentiment people are expressing, and I actually hug back these days. It's nice to know that I will be missed, at least a little.

But I still have a hard time dealing with being touched. I worked by myself for ten years. For six or seven years after that I didn't work anyplace long enough to get attached to anyone. That and my family members aren't really touchy people, though that has changed somewhat over the past few years. I remember the first time someone hugged me at work. A co-worker was leaving to go work with his family, and while I liked him, had enjoyed working with him, I'd never touched him. He came up and hugged me goodbye. I was startled. People made fun of me for days. I'd hugged him with my eyes open as wide as possible and my body as far away from his as possible.

Now that I'm leaving, it seems like everyone wants to hug me. To comfort me, to comfort themselves. We're all afraid of the same thing. We're all monkeys under the surface, huddled together for the comfort of our own kind. I appreciate the comfort they're trying to give and don't mind repaying in kind.

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