Sometimes the smallest gesture reminds us of something we've been missing for years.

Before I left for Mexico, I spent a couple of evenings at my friend Jefferson's house while his wife took a much-needed mental health break with her bestie.

Jefferson had recently undergone open-heart surgery, and it had been less than a week since he'd come home from the hospital. He was sore, uncomfortable, and understandably needy. And I have to admit something: I loved taking care of him.

There's something wonderful about being needed by somebody you care about. Not in a burdensome way, but in that quiet, intimate way that says, "I trust you to take care of me when I can't quite take care of myself."

At one point, Jefferson asked me to get him a popsicle. I went into the kitchen, grabbed one, and brought it back.

As I walked past his chair, he reached out, grabbed the back of my thigh, and began gently rubbing my hamstring up and down.

I stopped.

Not because I was uncomfortable, but because it was so completely out of character for him.

I just stood there for a moment and smiled.

When he finished, I knelt beside his chair to unwrap the popsicle and hand it to him. He reached over, rubbed the top of my head, and smiled back.

Then he said something that has stayed with me ever since.

"I should really touch you more often. Or we should touch each other more."

There was absolutely nothing sexual about the moment. No hidden meaning. No awkwardness.

It was simply two men acknowledging each other's existence through touch.

I'm here. You're here. We matter to each other.

And somehow, that tiny exchange felt much bigger than either of us probably realized at the time.

The Man Who Just Wanted to Be Held

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking with a service provider I've worked with for about three years. He's a wonderful man, straight, married, and someone I've come to know pretty well.

Out of nowhere, he asked me, "Do I have to be gay to come on one of your vacations?"

I laughed and assured him that absolutely not, he didn't. We've had straight men join our GoNaked vacations before, and they've fit in beautifully.

I jokingly told him that the gay guys would certainly appreciate having another handsome man around to look at, even if they knew he was off-limits.

I did warn him that there would probably be some flirting.

He laughed and said he suspected he'd probably enjoy the attention.

But then our conversation took an unexpected turn.

"Actually," he said, "it would be perfectly okay if somebody touched me. It's been a long time since I've been held by somebody."

That stopped me.

Here was a married, heterosexual man, openly admitting that he missed being held.

Not necessarily by a woman. Not necessarily by his wife. And not because he was secretly looking for a sexual experience.

He simply missed the feeling of another human being putting their arms around him.

And perhaps, more specifically, he missed the kind of physical camaraderie that men can share with other men.

I wonder how many men feel exactly the same way but would never dream of saying it out loud.

When Did Men Stop Touching Each Other?

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that physical affection between men needed an explanation.

A handshake was fine. A quick slap on the back was acceptable. Maybe a brief hug at a funeral, a wedding, or after somebody scored the winning touchdown.

But lingering affection? Holding another man's hand? Resting your head on a friend's shoulder? Sitting close enough that your bodies touch?

Suddenly, everybody wants to know what it means.

And sometimes, gentlemen, it doesn't mean anything more than what it is.

Two people enjoying the comfort of another human being.

I think this is especially interesting among straight men, many of whom have spent their lives being taught that tenderness toward another man might somehow threaten their masculinity.

But I don't believe gay men are immune to this, either.

We might be more comfortable with the idea of touching other men, but that doesn't mean we're getting the kind of affection we actually need.

In fact, I suspect plenty of gay men are having sex more often than they're being genuinely held.

And those are two very different things.

Sex can be wonderful. You won't hear me arguing otherwise.

But sometimes what a man really needs isn't somebody who wants his body.

It's somebody who wants to put an arm around him and stay there awhile.

Maybe That's Why Touch Workshops Matter

We have some wonderful men in our community, including Ayite and Kyle, who offer workshops centered around touch and human connection.

To someone on the outside, the whole idea might seem a little silly.

People actually pay money to be touched?

Yes. And perhaps that tells us something important.

I believe many of us are touch-deprived. We spend our days surrounded by people, connected through phones, social media, and endless messages, yet we can go days or weeks without experiencing a truly affectionate human touch.

Of course, we also live in a time when consent matters, and rightfully so.

I remember the days when you could walk into a gay bar and somebody might throw his arms around you or give your ass a friendly squeeze without so much as an introduction.

That was a different time.

Today, we're more conscious of personal boundaries, and that's a good thing. Nobody should have to tolerate unwanted physical contact.

But I worry that somewhere between respecting boundaries and fearing that we'll cross them, we've started avoiding touch altogether.

And that would be a terrible shame.

Consent doesn't have to be the end of affection. It can be the beginning of it.

"Can I give you a hug?"

"Would you mind if I put my arm around you?"

"Come here. You look like you could use a little love."

Those aren't difficult questions to ask. And sometimes, the answer might surprise you.

So Here's What I'd Like You to Do

Think about the men in your life.

Your straight friends. Your gay friends. Your married buddies. Your single buddies. The fellow who always makes everybody laugh. The quiet one who rarely asks for anything. The guy who seems to have his entire life figured out.

Especially that last one.

Because appearances can be deceiving, and the man who seems to need nothing might be the one who's gone the longest without being held.

The next time you're together, ask him if he'd like a hug.

Not one of those awkward, halfhearted, two-second shoulder bumps we men have perfected.

I mean a real hug.

The kind where you actually hold somebody long enough for him to realize that you mean it.

And if he says no, that's perfectly fine, too. Affection is a gift, not an obligation.

But if he says yes, don't be surprised if he holds on a little longer than you expected.

We spend so much of our lives trying to be strong, independent, self-sufficient men. We learn to carry our own burdens, hide our vulnerabilities, and pretend that we don't need much from anybody.

What a load of nonsense.

We're human beings. We need connection. We need tenderness. We need to know that we're not navigating this crazy world entirely on our own.

And sometimes, all of that can be communicated without saying a single word.

I keep thinking about Jefferson sitting in his chair, recovering from heart surgery, rubbing my leg as I stood there holding a popsicle.

He didn't need to give me a speech about friendship. He didn't need to tell me how much he appreciated my being there.

He simply reached out and touched me.

And I understood.

"I should really touch you more often," he said.

I've been thinking about that ever since.

Maybe we all should.

Because you never know how long it's been since someone you love has felt the simple comfort of being held.

And you never know how badly he might need it.

So go ahead, gentlemen. Ask a friend if he needs a hug.

You might discover that you needed one just as much as he did.