He dug his hands into my hair. Past my kinky curls, straight to my roots and rubbed my scalp. And I let him. I regret nothing.
During one of our usual ‘binge watch a new show on Hulu’ nights, I got a dose of a simple but overwhelmingly loving moment of intimacy. I was laying on his stomach when he, while laughing at some ridiculous show, slipped his hand into my hair and started rubbing my scalp. Before I could protest about the audacity of him putting his hands in a fresh twist out, I was comforted with a moment of bliss. Yes, bliss is the proper way to describe how I both my spirit and overwhelmed mind gradually calmed down. Continue reading