Dear Hugger,

Thank you. I keep thinking I should write this to you. But I cannot. Noone really can.

How do you write to an almost friend and say thank you for holding me? Not making out with me - not talking with me - not doing anything more than just holding me? How do I say that when you lose yourself in your morning's morals? How do I say that when you lose yourself to your now known doom?

Just so you know - I do not know you any more than I did that drunk Tuesday (Sunday?) when I walked into your room, anxious to sit with you through dinner, talk inanity. I do not know how you work or what you smile for : how you think or how you learn. I know not if you like or not like me and I sure as hell do not know if you knew I was not who I usually am when I spend time with you and your cruel jokes.

But I know this - you were kind to me. And when you held me in your arms, I was safe. And for this random act of kindness, I am glad. And thankful.

Even if there is no way I can let you know how very thankful I really am. Or how very happy you made me. For that , there is this note in oblivion - small tributes to beauty and peace and solemn silence. And for that, there is the memory of you. And the way you held me.

Thank you.