12-Apr-2006

"Uh--" I stammered.  You see, I'm about as affectionate as a porcupine with poison pines.  Keep your distance, I'm cute, good for a laugh, but invade my space and I get a little prickly. 

"You hug the Hottie whenever you see her or if she's leaving.  So maybe we should start doing the same thing," the Honeybee continued.

I tried to explain that the Hottie is extremely affectionate, always initiating hugs, "I love yous," etc.  For me, well, I just... don't... do that kind of thing.  If anyone tells me they love me, I pretty much ask them to repeat themselves, just to make sure I've heard them correctly.  That, and, well, almost anytime I tell someone I love them it sounds oh-so-phoney, like I'm rehearsing lines, or spitting out something that tastes bad.  What can I say?  I'm a very uptight person - fucking sue me. 

That being said, just because I don't say it, doesn't mean I don't love you, or that I don't feel a shared laugh like a hug.  If I return your calls, I probably love you (unless it's work-related).  If I let you share white chocolate raspberry cheesecake, or touch my feet, that's big.  If I cook for you, you're like family.  If you've seen me cry, you probably are family.  What I'm saying is words and affection mean about jack shit to me.  I don't trust words - they're too often a mask for manipulation or apathy (not to be cynical or anything, but look, I know I'm a much more interesting person on my blog than I am in real life, all because of words - and how fucking sad is that?).  If I had my way, I'd communicate in music.  But it's just not practical to have Duran, Duran following me everywhere I go, now, is it?