catfish19's Diaryland Diary

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Snuggling

I'm sick of this. I'm over it. Why has it taken me so long to realise that being single and happy is a lie - a conspiracy even (as everything is to me these days. I'm becoming more like my father by the minute.)

I want a man. I want warm, strong snuggles. I hate the word snuggle. I think I hate all words with the double g in them - giggle, nigger, wiggly... I do, however, like to snuggle. Nothing beats it.

I get plenty of affection, don't get me wrong. I get hugs, kisses, back-rubs, from friends and family and, on occasion, complete strangers. But it's not the same.

I think I started to miss snuggling two days ago, when I saw this couple on the train. They must have been a good four or five years younger than me, still in high school. He had his arm around her, she had her head on his shoulder. And something ached in me.

I hope they don't think I was a freak for staring at them. Or maybe I am.

I need a snuggle donor.

10:31 p.m. - 2004-04-17

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