hunger

My hunger for love, touch, physical affection and companionship is so strong today that I can't EAT. Because my body knows that everything I put in my mouth will feel like a totally inadequate substitute for what I really need.

So I've worked my way through every barely edible thing in the house so that I don't have to face the endless shower/self-maintenance/psychological armoring process necessary to go out and face a bunch of strangers who'll press me with the obligatory, "How's it going."

To which I will feel compelled to answer, "Fine." Or, in spite of my best intentions of civility, my barely-contained stress/hunger/anger/rage/fury will leak out, as in, "Starving. How about you?" I usually manage, if I'm actually buying food, to simply say, "Hungry." To which I'll usually get an appreciative laugh, they'll assume I'm joking, and they'll say something hearty, like, "Well, you've come to the right place!" Socially-enforced jollity all round ensues.

Knowing what I need, but not being able to get it. Not even SEEING it around me, in the relationships of others. Seeing the same emptiness I feel in the faces of others who are in all kinds of different situations, and realizing that the hunger is EPIDEMIC. And I can't solve it all.

All I need is ONE other intelligent, thoughtful person who's UNDERSTOOD this problem for her/himself, and is willing to ENGAGE with me in solving it, at least for the two of us.