It’s been far too long since I’ve known the touch of a female’s soft embrace. I’m not talking about hugs, because I get plenty of those. And I’m not alluding to any sexual conquest, either. I miss the closeness of holding a girl and falling asleep with her by my side. Last Saturday, thanks in large part to alcohol, I had another opportunity to feel close to somebody. Now, looking back on that night, I’m reminded of how much I really miss that feeling.

In the course of our daily lives, many of us seek out the warmth of the human touch in a variety of ways. We shake people’s hands, or better yet, we give props by bumping fists or hooking fingers. We toss our arms around the shoulders of friends, and we’ll often tickle somebody with a conspiratory nudge with an elbow to the ribs. Many of us hug, while the far more affectionate will kiss. Some prefer to tousle hair, while others congratulate with hearty slaps on the back.

It seems to me that we’re all looking for something—that intangible feeling of content that can only be felt through a tangible connection with another person. It’s a kind of closeness to others that we all subconsciously desire and need. Though some may deny it, I believe we all long for those fleeting glimpses of intimacy, or at the very least, those daily moments of subtle camaraderie. Longing for the human touch is more than just a want or a wistful desire—it is a need in life that’s nearly as urgent as hunger or thirst. Granted, you probably wouldn’t die from a deficiency of hugs and handshakes. But even so, it’s those moments of contact, however brief, that make life a little more tolerable. The human touch keeps you sane. And more importantly, it keeps you human.

I guess in a sense, I’ m longing to feel human again.