I remember the first time we tried to do it. I say "tried," of course, because it didn’t work . You were way too nervous.

But after that, you lay behind me and kept your hand on my back until I fell asleep. Well, at least you thought I was asleep. I couldn’t actually fall asleep but I pretended because I knew you were a romantic and liked the idea of me falling asleep in that way.

I read about this study where scientists found that babies who do not receive touch and affection stop growing. The theory is that touch signals to babies that they are being well taken care of, so they can invest energy in growth (thus increasing their energy intake requirements) because their future food/energy needs will be met.

But lying there I thought that this really just illustrated the broader phenomenon of all humans needing touch. Before that warm afternoon, I’d felt a bit like an energy-conserving shell myself.

There was also something about the fact that I lay with my back to you. You could have done anything to me- cut off all my hair, stabbed me in the back with a big knife, or stolen my clothes and run out the door. But I knew that you wouldn’t. I totally trusted you.

But you never let me lie like that with my hand on your back.

You said it was because you had bad back acne and you were too embarrassed. But I wouldn’t have been disgusted. And the fact that you never let me made me feel like you didn’t trust me. I still think you didn’t.

I don’t really think about this moment all that often. And I’m definitely not one of those visualizing ‘breathe and go to your happy back rubbing place’ kind of people either. But just the same, when I think about heaven I imagine it as a place where it is always a lazy Sunday afternoon, and we are all lying on a giant plush bed, dozing in an endless chain, hand-to-back, with the smell of fresh coffee wafting up through the clouds.