Do Not Touch.

This is not a joke.

Have you ever held my hand or arm and noticed that it is limp and lifeless? Have you ever touched any part of me and I gave you a fake laugh?

I have a confession to make.

I'm coming out of the closet.

...

I do not like to be touched.


THERE, I said it. So if you're reading this and you have touched me before, I apologise. I never liked it, I just never had the balls to say it. Well, I still don't have balls, but I'm saying it anyway.

What triggered this is a very traumatising experience. Long story short, a lady plopped down onto an empty seat next to me, rather heavily. Her thighs flooded out onto my seat and I had to inch away from her. As she talked and laughed with her friends, her elbow nudged me and her thighs wobbled against mine. It was a gross violation of my personal space. I still get disturbing flashbacks to this day.

Then, the unimaginable happened. She leaned right against me with her arm on my right thigh (it still feels disgusting), mumbling something I couldn't catch. "Sorry?" I enquired. "The time, the time." She actually proceeded to grab hold of my arm and looked at my watch. HOLY MOTHER (@$%@&*$%&@& CUT MY BLOODY ARM OFF!!

Okay, breathe in and breathe out...

That's it. I do not like to be touched.

And to answer your question, no there are no exceptions. I do not hold hands with girlfriends while we skip to the ladies'.

1. That's gay.
2. I don't like to be touched.

Take this analogy. You know how everyone has private parts, and you wouldn't touch them unless you are a husband/wife/gynaecologist/pervert/were asked to? Well, to me, my entire body is like a private part. Think of me as a giant vagina. Now, would you touch me?

Therefore, do not touch my hair, my face, any other body parts, and my clothes. In fact, if I could push it, I wish everyone would keep at an arm's length away from me.

Don't talk to me about it, don't ask me about it. Just. Don't. Touch.

Thank you and goodnight.