Hey! Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy and this is probably nothing, it’s just…
Okay, so Hands and I have always had a connection. We live a bit of a commute away, but we still run into each other a lot, especially when our human is surprised, or excited, or absentmindedly poking that one chin hair she missed during the great morning pluck.
We don’t always meet in the best of circumstances. When she called her professor “Grandma” in undergrad – yikes – Hands clapped over me in a heartbeat. But we shared that pain and embarrassment, and we comforted each other in that moment.
And the beautiful moments…
When our human nabbed that award at work for putting in thirteen-hour days every day for a month, Hands flew up to me and stayed there for a while before they could accept the $15 Panera gift card. I’ll never forget it, Eyes said afterwards Mouth was beaming like it hadn’t in years.
They don’t come by anymore.
I call to them sometimes. Quickly, softly, but loud enough to hear. And yet…
They’re gone.
I don’t know what I did.
I am so sorry if I hurt them.
I just need to know what I did. Why they left me. Why they won’t tell me why.
I’m so sorry to unload like this. If you see Hands, let them know I miss them. They pop by briefly sometimes, but quickly jerk themselves away before I can say anything or even react. I don’t know what I did, but I’m so very sorry.
Deep down, I know this will pass. That the me-covering masks will fade away, that I’ll find out what a CDC is. But until then, I look to the future, and to feeling Hands’ touch again.