Sometimes I give off an impression to people that I don’t
like physical touch. I suppose that is
because sometimes I don’t like physical touch, but sometimes I do, and
sometimes I crave it. I love handshakes,
good solid handshakes. I’ve never been a
big fan of hugs.
When I was a kid, a repeated piece of advice that I got from
my parents when I played soccer was, “stay on your feet!” I
got this advice because I fell down a lot.
When someone from the other team would push me, even just a little, even
if it was legal, I’d fall down. I didn’t
realise why at the time, but looking back I’m pretty sure I was trying to get
away for their touch. (No wonder I fell
off a bridge to avoid being kissed, falling was my escape.) I play soccer now every Sunday with a group
of friends. The thing is I don’t fall
down anymore. These guys are some of my
best buddies. I don’t mind if they push
me; I push back. I trust them.
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