I wished she’d never stop squeezing me. I wished I could spend the rest of my life as a child, being slightly crushed by someone who loved me.

I wished I could spend the rest of my life... being slightly crushed by someone who loved me.

Some hugs were awkward. One person’s arm headed over the other’s shoulder just as that person was mirroring the action. So it would almost look like a defensive karate move in slow motion.

Sometimes, a guy liked to hug around the waist and if the girl was shorter, he’d straighten a little and she’d end up on tip toe. This had always made her feel like a melon being weighed for juiciness. From the wrong man, from any man really, it was a creepy hug.

Other hugs were comfortable, a perfect synchronization of arms crisscrossing around one another’s backs, a full, warm, brief embrace that said "I care about you" but didn’t cross any weird lines.

Crying is part of the adventure

Rapid movement was a relief in the midst of so much feeling.

A library is infinity under a roof.