I actually find myself decreasingly needing — or even desiring — touch with other men. It's not completely gone, mind you. But the need/desire is considerably less. This is a fairly new development. I'm still unpacking the reasons, but I have some theories based on how my male friendships have transpired the last decade — many of them imploding.

I'm feeling an ache from an empty space in my life. The ache seems to be crying out for something I haven't felt much desire in — well, forever? I'm feeling a longing for affectionate, brotherly touch from another guy: a hug, an arm around the shoulder, a tight embrace, an encouraging pat on the back, a caring hand on my neck. And I have no idea why.

The morning after, I processed this dream over and over. This "dad of my dreams" was unlike my dad of reality. He was affectionate and involved. He helped me — didn't just tell me to fix whatever was wrong. And he stayed with me.

After the funeral, I felt almost paralyzed. I just couldn't force myself to lead at the house. James needed me to lead and be a help to him, so he confronted me on being too passive. I admitted he was right, but I felt unable to get beyond my emotions and lead others. Things degenerated until James and I barely talked.

My second greatest "love language" is quality time. I communicate and receive love simply by being physically present with someone. We can be silent for hours -- but if we are "intentionally" together, then I perceive it as a sign of care and love. I wasn't here for him; I was here for me.