He hug me as if he could feel my pain. I laid my head on his bare chest and tears ran down his skin silently. It didn’t matter that we were strangers; it was that unfamiliarity that brought me down to tears. Two unknown souls making a brief stop in their journey, stripping down their fears and judgments.
He hug me as if that was his life mission: to give hugs to this random girl he had just met. To this girl who allowed herself to be vulnerable and accept that she cannot longer handle the realities that she’s been looking for. It was the cruel and beautiful world that was bringing her down, and he simply knew how to make her feel alive.
She had been longing for a hug for weeks now, but she couldn’t ask for it. She couldn’t scream and accept that she’s done with missing her past and fearing her future. She could no longer pretend that this is life.
Their bodies merged, escaping from the outside world where pain is everywhere. Her naked breasts rested on his chest unashamed, unafraid of the social taboos that everybody preaches and breaks. When is too soon to bare myself naked? When is too soon to reveal myself as a human being?