• Crackhappy@lemmy.worldOPEnglish
    33·
    6 months ago

    I’m going to comment on my own post, despite it being against the rules of propriety.

    The last time I hugged the person I still want to hug the most was in 2010. Before she died.

    It’s not that I keep a torch lit for her, but that I want to tell her all the amazing things her kids are doing. And give her a hug.

  • XTL
    23·
    6 months ago

    A few minutes ago maybe. She’s still asleep next to me.

  • Cryophilia@lemmy.world
    152·
    6 months ago

    Been almost a month, but I’ll see her tomorrow night!

    She’s my ex, and we’re still absolutely in love with each other and best friends to boot, we just have incompatibilities that make us impossible as a couple. I see her about once a month on average now. She moved 2 hours away.

    • Susaga@sh.itjust.worksEnglish
      101·
      6 months ago

      You’re not the only one whose bestie is their ex. Our entire relationship made a ton more sense when we started adding “bro” to the end of our "I love you"s.

  • unn@lemmy.ca
    11·
    6 months ago

    It seems this person never existed, or died without telling me beforehand. Nobody’s special.

  • Paragone@lemmy.world
    116·
    6 months ago

    There isn’t any someone I want to be hugging.

    It’s a nonsensical concept.

    Closeness…?

    you require sufficiently-related identity/ego underlying you, for that.

    People who are too different, one cannot be close with, obviously

    ( extreme case is when prejudice is between people, but the underlying principle holds much more solidly than just-that-case )

    I’m not putting this here for any “pity”: I’m putting this here so that if there’s any other person who’s in the destroy-unconscious-ignorance-no-matter-the-cost kind of life, that they can see what happens, when one keeps going.

    Eventually you reach a condition where collaboration with others still is entirely possible, but “belonging” has become gone.

    Keep going: they integrity one can earn, the conquering of one’s own unconscious-mind, it is worth it.

    Some might relate it to being a time-traveler: one’ll never fit-in, in the people one lives among, but it is itself, not any fiction thing.

    Cracking one’s unconscious is sooo far outside what “acceptable people” do, that … if you go far enough, then you … are just too different.

    Divergeance is fine, though, so long as living is fine.

    _ /\ _