Last night, I treated myself to (1) tacos and (2) a foot massage. I soak up solitary moments when I am beholden to no conversation except my own internal dialogue.
Do the folks at the foot massage joint know how gifted they are? Truly. It is a gift. The gift of intuition and the gift of touch. One time, the masseuse asked me, "You had a bad dream last night? Did you not sleep well?"
What. on. earth. Yes, foot man, you are spot on.
The good ones work up your calves to the knees. Yes, the knees. It was through a few physical therapy sessions I learned to value the massage of specific points around the knees. It's incredible the amount of tension we hold in the backs of the knees and around the ligaments. Who would have thunk.
I don't trust people who say they don't like massages. It's a huge red flag for someone who is either deeply afraid of intimacy or places little value on self-care. Or, maybe he or she is a sociopath.
Definitely someone who is afraid of feeling, though. Keep a wide perimeter around people who are uncomfortable with their emotions...