Needy Silence

I’ve never been a snuggly, needy person. Honestly. I know people say that and – in actuality – they’re entirely the opposite. But I really truly avoid and dislike the necessity for human contact. I think it’s this month, though.
November has really put me on a roller coaster
– I’m clinging to the lap bar with one hand
& forcing the other to stay in the air –
– I’m raising my eyes toward the heavens in anticipation of the climb
& clenching them shut with every drop –
– I’m screaming at the top of my lunges
& internalizing my fears –
and my friends will never know how comforted and protected I’ve felt despite it all. Snuggled under a lambie blanket, listening to giggles rumble from around me. Personal contact, it seems, is keeping me from falling at the peaks and plummeting to the hard cement below. And sitting silently next to someone, without exchanging words, has brought the gentlest of conversations these days.
In 12 days I’ll have gone 2 years without hearing her voice. Nothing will ever take the edge off the knowledge that these particular ears will never hear that distinctly squeaky babytalk again. Never will another person’s body fit so perfectly within the puzzle of my own. But recent snuggles alongside necessary silence are doing a world of good for this currently needy person.