“The First Time I Was Hugged by a Fool”
It happened at a train station.
I was tired, mentally drained after a long day of work in a city that wasn’t mine.
Everything felt loud, fast, and cold. I stood at a small coffee stand, trying to fix a payment issue on my phone, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
A voice said, “Brother… you need a hug.”
I turned around slowly.
There stood a man in his thirties. Disheveled hair, stained jacket, and the strangest look in his eyes — like he knew something about me that I didn’t.
I froze. I wanted to say, “Please leave me alone.”
But before I could speak…
He hugged me.
Fully. Firmly. Like he had known me forever.
And for a few seconds, I just stood there — paralyzed.
My brain screamed, “What the hell is going on?”
But my body? It stayed still.
I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t push him away.
Then he pulled back, looked me straight in the eyes, and said,
“Life’s too short to walk around without feeling like a human being.”
And he walked away. Just like that.
I stood there, heart pounding, unsure whether I had just met a madman… or a genius.
But something shifted in me.
Three minutes later, a woman screamed.
Someone had snatched her bag and knocked her to the ground.
Before I could think — I was running.
I chased the guy through the station, tackled him near the metro gate, and helped recover the bag.
People applauded, thanked me.
But I didn’t do it for them.
I did it because…
I felt human.
For the first time in a long time.
And every time I pass through that same station now,
I look around, hoping to see that fool again.
The one who hugged me like he knew I needed it.
The one who reminded me I’m still alive.