No Hug?

Maybe you wonder, and maybe you already know, but I need to get it out--so here it goes. Dan, I know you think that friends should be able to hug, and how does you having a girlfriend change our friendship? Let me tell you. When I hug you I remember falling apart in your arms the first time I saw blood when we started losing our son Jesse. I remember you holding me when we knew that his heartbeat was gone. I remember dancing in your arms on our wedding day. I remember hugging you when I told you about Z. I remember being in your arms before knocking on the door that held our son, Jaden behind it. I remember your hugs when you told me you were ready to come home after our first separation. I remember. When you hug me now all those feelings come flooding back. Your arms through the pain and sorrow, joy and rejoicing, always strong, always comforting and always mine--even when they weren't legally mine anymore. Now, when you hug me, I feel like the bodily form of rejection. I feel alone and abandoned and like I am desperately trying to snatch back something that is not mine. So I am sorry that you get a one- shouldered, I-only-sort-of-can-stand-being-in-your-presence-kind-of-hug. It's not because I can't stand you. It's really just the opposite. For me your hug means love--and that's not mine anymore. I can't claim it and so I am left instead with the bitter taste of loneliness. So please don't think me evil or unkind or uncaring, instead please honor the fact that while you've moved on-I'm still hurting. I'm still broken, and for now, even as a friend, I cannot accept your hugs. If you feel that you need a hug from me--all I can offer is what my heart will allow--which isn't much. Please understand. Also, because I don't seek your pity. Let me tell you what I'm finding. I am finding that despite the pain and the loneliness, I feel safe. Sometimes I go to bed at night and just feel like I'm being held tightly even though no one is in the room. I feel this crazy sense of peace that I just can't explain. Sometimes I even find so much joy that I feel like dancing, and sometimes--when no one's watching--I even do dance, and always--in the shower--I sing. I know that in order to truly heal I need to hurt. I need to know what rejection, loneliness, and loss feels like, so I can truly appreciate joy, and dancing, and singing, and that's what I am finding glimpses of every day. Some day it's all I will feel, but first I need to finish hurting so I can truly begin healing.