The one part that that is the most vulnerable. Unguarded.
In life and emotion.
The part where a mother strokes her child after he comes home injured, or bullied, or hurt beyond words.
The place where you reach out to comfort a friend wanting to cry their eyes out after a heartbreak.
Where we tenderly stroke a person to let them know they are loved.
Where we are at our most naked, unguarded and unseen.
Where our hands reach out hesitantly, tremblingly, to caress a crush when you know they are in a bad place.
But more often than not, we withdraw our hands timidly, out of fear of it seeming too intimate a gesture.
The part where our hands sometimes tenderly graze past while dancing to a soft, soulful number.
Where our hands sometimes rest on a loved one’s shoulder, even with the world watching, to ket them know that they are loved, protected and secure.
Science says that when people are insecure, troubled, scared, concerned, worried, or nervous, they cover or touch their neck.
And that it is the place where we often place our own hands when under stress, or confused, or simply tired after a long day.
But all science apart, sometimes, unexpectedly, you happen to gaze at the back of their neck and you wonder what is going on within their heads, what makes them appear as they do to the world.
What tumult rages within their thoughts, what they think about when they are alone at night. What memories bring tears to their eyes, and what makes them smile so mysteriously to themselves while looking away, or into the screen of their cellphones.
And it makes you wonder how or why is it that it brings out the tenderness in you, in spite of yourself.
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