Driving away from the wreck of the day and the lights always red in the rear view

I have just watched the final of Grey's Anatomy yes I know its old news but its the only chance I've had to see it. And when I say "just" I mean it finished 40 minutes ago, and I still can't get a hold of myself.
I knew what was going to happen and I had prepared myself for it, but this was a whole unexpected level of effect, it hit me far below the standard sad television finale level, this one hit me way deep in levels I haven't been to for a long time, deep dark parts of my brain where my childhood memories reside and where I keep the knowledge of the names of colours and down deep in my emotional core do you want to call it my heart? Where I remember what it was like to finally kiss the man I was in love with when I was 23 and where I keep the smell of my baby niece's hair and the sound of my four-years-gone dog's bark.
I have spent the twenty minutes in the shower, sitting on the floor hugging my knees and sobbing, letting the water wash over me in the hope it will in some way pull me together but that didn't work and so I tried to figure out why it was that I was so affected by a TV programme, whose ending I already knew.

I miss human touch.
I hate to stand in queues because I feel the people in front and behind me are imposing on my personal space, and I have been known to shout at people in bars who touch me, even when the bar is full. I hate being touched, in short. I am very protective of my personal space and get VERY antsy when its invaded.

Yet still, the more I think about it, the one thing I absolutely crave is the touch of someone who loves me.
I'm not talking about sex necessarily, I am so accustomed to living without that I think that part of my brain has ceased to work. What I mean is simple human contact with people who love me. A hug from my Dad, one of the kids sitting on my knee, the way my mum will always try to fix my permanently messy hair. When I'm at home I don't really notice my single status, but in the last couple of weeks I've really noticed it.
When I was away in the cabin last weekend, my friend was there with his girlfriend. While we were sitting around the fire after dinner, she had her foot sitting on his knee, and he was absentmindedly playing with it.
When I saw it, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

I think it was a similar thing that hit me about Grey's Anatomy tonight. Izzy and Denny to be specific. She loved him, he loved her, it was simple and true and she potentially sacrified her career to save his life, and then he died. I can see the image in my head, of Izzy in her pink frock lying on the bed with Denny, and it sets me off again.
Maybe I'm lonely, I don't know. I always thought I had moved beyond that, at my age one would hope that I had, but perhaps I was wrong.
Perhaps I am so deeply affected by a television programme because I am desperately in need of some human company beyond school.
Perhaps I need to be discussing this over martinis with my girlfriends instead of in a blog.
But right now all I can say is that I would give almost anything to wake up to someone who loves me.

I shouldn't have to post a warning here, the fact that I am putting these uncharacteristically honest words out there should be sufficient caution to not make smart arsed comments about offering to shag me or accusations of being emo or the fact its just a freaking television programme.
The words are out of my head now and so I can sleep. Thats all I hoped for.