Holding hands

Have we been married so long that we don't automatically hold hands as we walk down the street? When was the last time we strolled instead of rushing from point A to B?

Once upon a long time ago, that first hand holding was such a big deal. Being seen walking in public holding hands made us shy but had such a thrill. We'd look anywhere but at each other and try to look all cool. It was a declaration. It was a commitment. We'd get promise rings, and the touch of the cool metal when we held hands reassured us.

Then soon we were joined at the hip and our hands only disengaged long enough to do what we needed to before being joined again. Even at meals! Our hands would be joined under the table if we sat next to each other, or overlapped on the table if we sat across from each other. They'd be joined when watching a movie on the sofa, joined when we danced, and joined when we fell asleep in bed. There was this secret language going on when our hands were joined. A scratch, a squeeze, a pick of the finger nail, a repetitive smoothing motion, a tickle, even the warmth or sweat of the palm. The sparkle of the diamond made our skin glow. The metal of our wedding rings were never cold as they never came off and our hands kept them warm.

At some point holding hands became a means of dragging the other to walk faster to point B. Then we didn't even hold hands anymore and we'd argue about how we couldn't have a conversation anymore because you walked ahead and I would walk behind you. Communication broke down and our hands didn't talk anymore. We're all good now, but we haven't held hands much since.

But just the other day, we left the house together. The day was bright and your stride was easy. My eyes drew to your bare hand resting against your thigh. I reached for your hand with a smirk and glanced at your face. You smiled too and said "What do you think you're doing?" in an easy voice, an echo of what you'd used to say when I reached for your hand back in the day, acting as if the paparazzi ware going to jump out of the bushes and take pictures of us, and the hearts of millions of girls around the world would break. My smirk was the anticipatory answer to that question: "HA! Yeah right. Puh-leeze." conveyed in less than a second. Our hands stayed joined for our small walk to the end of the block.

Next I'm bringing back the swinging while we're walking, which makes you cringe inside and shatters your cool image to the millions of your imagined female fans. Maybe I'll even drag you down the street skipping with a BIG smile on my face just to show them that you're mine.

You should hold my hand more else I think of other things to do. I get creative when I'm over excited. =p