Kai helped a lot with that, last night. Just hung out, smoked a joint, watched the water. No strings attached. We just..... were. Strange, when you don't see someone for years, and they you're able to have those comfortable silences (broken of course by fits of stoner giggling). It was nice. Clearing. Cleansing in a way.

Doc noticed today that something was up, before I even said anything. Course, she's sorta trained for that, but it was something more, she could tell something was running all of us ragged.

Been quiet, numb, content, sorrowed, melancholied....... everybody has. But it's mostly been that quiet contemplation.

Think the content melancholy was from the Little Guy. What Kai and I were able to do last night helped him, too. He needs that comfortable silence...... content to do your own thing, and the other person do their own thing, yet both be within the same room. Not saying much of world changing importance, no waxing philosophic or poetic.... just hangin', chillin'.....

He watched Session today, even participated a little. I was able to connect to him a bit and just find out if things were cool, if anything was needed.

He takes hugs about like I do *chuckles* Me? I resent them. I resent the touch iself because I know hugs are just condescending "it'll be okay" pats on the back which are only given as fake consolation, just to get me to shut up for a little while, mom doesn't want to deal with this particular problem (oh, denial issues? mooore than likely) the monsters under the bed aren't going to eat you, just go back to bed. Never seemed to get the idea it wasn't the monsters -under- the bed I was afraid of, it was the ones in it. Asshole or shyboi actually appreciate hugs. They get the comfort out of them that's meant. Now, the Little Guy, on the other hand. He was never offered hugs before..... he just doesn't know what to do with them so curls away within his skin to have as little contact as possible. It's uncomfortable for him.

Had something of a breakthrough as to why.

This content quiet bubble we were in today, or, mostly, I was in. Doc asked when it first came about. I heard "first grade" instead of "first came." So, obviously, that meant something. In first grade, kids are 5 or 6..... since birthday's in May we were always on the younger end of the classroom, so probably around 5.

Enter Little Guy.

A few years ago, we found a letter that was packed away with a lot of gradeschool stuff. It was a polite..... suggestion..... from our dad to the school about keeping the body IN school. It seems we were constantly beating up on other kids. Now, nobody remembers this. We only remember kicking a kid in the balls once because he did something shitty. Apparently, somebody in here had been bullying the other kids......

I remember being...... not really picked on, other kids got it worse, but we were pushed around a bit, back then. I mean, who wasn't? Self confidence wasn't anything to brag about, though. I guess, at some point, enough was enough and as soon as someone tried to push us around, there was an instant strike back..... literally. We pummeled a few kids, it seems. Considering that was about the time of the abuse, elsewhere, it doesn't surprise me that it wasn't really deemed important enough to remember.

A lot of rage must have been pent up. A lot. And it would have been the flipside of how much terror was being held, as well. So I'm guessing shit was pretty bad back then, somehow.

Now, back to the Little Guy and hugs...... back then, nobody asked him what was wrong. They didn't see that we were reaching out for something. I mean, during those timesin Oklahoma, bullies were bullies, there wasn't any of this psychobabble to look deeper into the causes. We were just labeled mean. No "What's wrong, what's causing you to do this?".... instead we got "You need to stop doing this!" So nobody found out that we were bullied before that, I'm guessing. Nobody asked, and most definitely nobody in here told.

When we asked the Little Guy what was up, if anything, got back the stereotypical "nuthin." which of course, coming from a kid's mouth, moms out there say it with me, means "nuthin I wanna talk about." Right? Right. I said it more times than I can remember when I was younger. And, more than likely, if anyone -did- ask, back then, that was the answer they recieved.

I knew what he meant, so did the Doc. Was all okay.....

So we, or whomever was active at that time, because nobody else seems to remember more than a detail here or there, so I believe this would be the Little Guy's time, just stayed off as a loner, other than a small core group of lunchtime friends.

So we never got hugs. The Little Guy never got hugs. He never got made to feel better. So he doesn't now what to do about it now.