Hold My Hand Forever

I miss holding his hand.  We held hands whenever we walked anywhere, even if it was just from a parking lot into the store. I miss reaching across the table in a restaurant to take his hand, and the times that he’d rest his hand on my knee as he was driving and I’d put mine in his, as I’d done here. It was one of those safe, secure, warm feelings. I always imagined one day we would be one of those cute little old couples, still holding hands as we walked through a park.

I remember a couple of hours into our first date Jeff had a little thing that he thought he’d try: he held his hand up to me, palm out and said “Could you hold your hand up? I just want to see something.”  And so, of course, I did. I put my hand up to his, palm to palm. He then moved his hand slightly, and laced his fingers through mine. “I just wanted to see how that would feel,” he said.


It felt perfect.

(cross posted from Kything NaturesZen)