How I feel How I feel.

Have you ever thought about, and tried to differentiate the sensations of missing things or people?
I walked home from work today. I finished late, it was 19C, and I needed some debriefing time.
The warm night air in the park on my way home brought on a nagging nostalgia: that gutty longing for summer nights past, of long walks in the ravine with friends in junior high, of looking up at the sky on camping trips. No specific memories, just themes of memories.
And then I started to think about HOW I was feeling WHAT I was feeling. I started thinking about people I miss, or have missed and tried to quantify and qualify it.
All of the missing things involve various degrees of an aching chest. Varying depths and strengths of chest involvement.

When I miss my Mom and Dad it is in the center of my chest and the upper surface of my arms, the hug muscles. Missing my Dad is also a bit in my upper back. I think this is because his hugs are a bit bigger, and he is a back-patter when he hugs.

Missing good friends is also in the center of my chest, but spreads to my cheeks; the laughing, smiling parts.

I miss my cats with my fingertips.

I miss more intimate friends with the small of my back and the space just in front of my lips.

I miss my home with a general body ache.

I miss people I have never met, but would like to meet, with my forehead.

I miss running with the skin on my face and neck.

I miss the Ocean with my nose and lungs.

I miss my sister’s yet-to-be-born child with my eyes, my arms, my chest, my cheek.