A dozen or so years ago, a friend gifted me a treatment at the spa of a ritzy country club in Thailand. It was promised to be the pinnacle of relaxation: 90 minutes of muscle-kneading, my limbs ...
Its been five years of touch starvation. I’ll probably have some more years of it. I’m not handling this well. Lisbeth continued, “I feel like I’m dying from touch starvation, y’all. I don’t get hugs.
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