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I’m not certain whether I love this world or hate it. I’m never sure whether I love my fellow humans or hate all of us. How can I be so confused about this?

There are times when I experience beauty and love and joy as I walk through this world. In those moments, I feel as though all is right and I’m at peace. I feel as though I love the people around me and want to connect with them. In those moments, it’s a joy to be alive.

But there are times when mundane and callous actions by others pierce my heart and make me hurt and cynical. In those times, I sometimes hear an inner voice crying, “I hate everybody!” In those moments, I want to give up on humans and become a hermit. I wonder why God made us.

Am I confused? Schizo? Bi-polar?

Not really. I’m just experiencing very different parts of what it means to be alive. And as much as I want to rage against the things which hurt me and make me want to run away, I have to accept that my own choices have brought me to where I am. Even when others have taken actions which have hurt me and angered me, I am the one with the power to change my own life.

Nobody can do it for me. I have to change myself in order to change my experience of this world.

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I didn’t give the hug any thought ahead of time. It was instinctive. The woman was experiencing a difficult moment and I said something supportive. Tears welled up in her eyes and she said she was about to cry. So I reached out and gave her a hug.

I felt the warmth of her skin against one of my hands. My other hand felt her shoulder beneath her shirt. She pressed her body into mine and she squeezed me tightly as she hugged me back in appreciation. And then it was over. It took no more than a few seconds.

But I’ve been thinking about that hug for the last couple of hours.

The woman isn’t a close friend. I’ve been seeing her occasionally in business for the last few years and we’ve chatted casually about our personal lives. But nothing more than that. We’re the most casual of acquaintances, but we shared a nice hug in a way that was appropriate to the situation.

I’ve been thinking about that hug for the last couple of hours, though. It’s not because of any desire for her in particular. It simply made me incredibly conscious of how starved I’ve been for human touch.

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I don’t know how to say goodbye to you
I’m not good at things that I don’t want to do
— Sam Phillips, “I Don’t Know How to Say Goodbye to You”

I have no regret about any of the times in my life when I’ve fallen in love. Each woman who I’ve loved has meant something to me at that time in my life — and for reasons that were about her alone — so I cherish and honor each woman in her own way.

But I do regret how some of these loves have ended. It’s not so much that I regret things I did that were damaging or hurtful to others, but rather that I have a history of holding onto love that needs to be allowed to die.

I know how to love in ways that are deep and honest and healthy. What I don’t know how to do is to walk away from my feelings for a woman when it’s no longer healthy to love her. I’m never sure where the line is between loving in a steadfast way and holding onto something which is already dead.

And all this is wrapped up in childhood trauma about the mother who abandoned me.

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