One of these days, those truth darts have to sink in. And I happen to agree with you. I am not a "lovey-dovey" person to begin with and when I allow someone to touch me, it is on my terms. I remember Skippy trying to hug me at the airport and I could almost not bear to touch him or have him touch me. Of course, he made me feel guilty that "after 18 years, I wouldn't even hug him". At the time, it worked. Now that I am so far away from that, my mind screams: and exactly how did he respect that 18 year relationship?
Let the tears come, my friend. They are cathartic. They will eventually dry.
