hug my mom.

MOM HUGS ROCK, ALRIGHT? GIVE IT A GODDAMN SHOT SOMETIME.

ventured forth to the great frozen wastelands of my youth for the winter hols and some festive drinking and debasement in the snow. good times. however, while there I put in some quality mom-hugging time and let me tell you, few things make a kid feel as good as hugs from a parent who loves you and supports you in all things.

especially one who makes you cake, and asks about your wacky Canadian friends. if you don’t love that shit, I don’t think I want to know you.

it never really hit me until I moved away from home for the last time, but christ, I was raised in a very tactile family. we weren’t like, a bad-touch family, but my mother, step-brother, brother and I are all very touchy-feely. when you grow up within that sort of environment, where affection has a physical manifestation every day, any time you want or need it (alternately, even when you don’t), living without it sucks the root.

everyone I’ve lived with since leaving NY has also been fairly hands-on, but there’s something about hugs from your mom, or your brothers - family in general, when you get along with them - that are just the best. I know my roommate would hug me without hesitation, as would any member of her family (all whom I’ve known long enough to practically classify as family) but fucking hell. sometimes you need some good mom hugging, you know? or one of those bone-aching bear hugs brothers are really good at? my brothers, at least, seeing as they’re fucking giants.

it doesn’t help that lately, I’ve been reading all these wacky pieces of fan fiction with people who are just skin-hungry and go completely apeshit over the simplest of touches and I’m like, man, I am right there with you. it’s getting a bit ridiculous.