________ ________ ________
2019-10-27 / \/ \/ / \
/ __/ /_ _/
For as long as I can remember, I've hated / _/ / /
being touched. I don't talk about it much \_______/_\___/____/\___/____/_
because when you say something like that / \/ \/ / \
people's natural reaction is to try and / _/ /_ _/
understand why and usually lean towards /- / _/ /
ideas of abuse or similar. \________/\________/\___/____/
In my case it's nothing like that, I just hate the way other people's skin
feels against mine, it's hard to explain but I imagine it's something akin to
a phobia, like how some people can't stand the sound of people eating or
whatever. Though I wouldn't really consider it haphephobia because it's not
really a fear and I don't really react, I'd just rather avoid it wherever
possible.
Anyway, the reason I bring all this up is a few months back I had a fall on
a tram in the city and it has kind of stuck with me.
I was commuting home from work on a tram and, as so often happens, some
dick head darted out in front of it and the driver had to slam on the brakes
to avoid running the guy down.
Inertia is a thing so when the tram stops suddenly, loose objects like
people keep moving and I kept moving a good eight feet at least. I reached out
for one of the handrails but missed it by inches, and landed on the ground,
tangled in my bag strap and headphones cord.
Mercifully there wasn't many other people on the tram so I didn't collide
with anyone.
In those seconds of confusion after hitting the ground one of the other
commuters reached down and put his hands on me, reassuringly firm but not
intrusively so. It struck me because there was no hesitation, like say if
someone was reassuring someone else's child. It's hard to describe.
So thank you, stranger, there was nothing in the world I needed more in
that moment than a reassuring hand.
