That Kind Of Hug

The silence behind that one sentence is so loud, it's screaming —

I want a hug; the kind of hug that lasts for minutes which feel like hours; the kind of hug that holds you like no one has ever held you, like no one will ever hold you, like you're so precious, like you'll vanish if they lose their grip even slightly, like they've never held anyone like that, like they'll never hold anyone like that; that kind of hug that stops time, stops the mind from creating new thoughts and overthink on the old ones, that kind of hug.

I want that kind of hug, but I don't know from whom I want it.