So Close Yet So Far

We hug hello. We hug goodbye. And sometimes we hug in between just because.

Despite all the "clasping tightly in the arms, especially with affection" that goes on in the fraternity, I do not feel any love.

My parents were the typical non-affectionate Asian parents. The first time I remember someone hugging me was in first or second grade. Back in elementary school, I loved playing tag and hopscotch, and during one particularly rough game of tag, I was chasing this boy up and down the handicap wheelchair ramp in the courtyard when I tripped over a bump in the pavement and slid maybe a feet or so down the ramp on my knees.

It hurt. So of course, I cried.

My friends took me into the office and told the secretary what happened. She took a look at my knees and determined that nothing was too physically damaged and all I needed was a big hug. She pulled the small me into her large, grandmotherly body and gave a me a tight, comforting hug before sending me back into the courtyard.

As I walked out of the building toward my friends again, I felt a weird tingling sensation on my legs.

Heavy streams of blood were suddenly running down both of my legs from the badly scraped knees.

I ran, crying hysterically, back into the office where the secretary stared at my bloody knees in horror.

I spent the next hour or so having my knees bandaged in a thick wad of gauze and sitting with my legs elevated to prevent excessive blood loss.

I guess a hug just wasn't enough to fix the problem.

You could say I have been quite suspicious of them since then.