Holding hands

A mother’s hand helping you cross the street, a brother’s hand encouraging the first bike ride, a friend’s hand in a children game. A friend’s hand helping you to face the dark living room when you arrived from a party much later than you should – and the house seems to be spinning a bit. The hand that belonged to your first boyfriend and the ones that arrived after he was gone. The shy one that slipped his hands on yours in the quietness of a movie theatre, the brave one that used to hold your hand in the middle of the street, in front of everybody’s eyes and even in front of his mother’s eyes, the caring one that always kept a finger ready to tickle... There’s the hand that touches yours as if it wasn’t on purpose but, then, doesn’t let go. Hand that, in a moment of messed hair and half clothes off, guides you to the bedroom with a filthy look, showing what’s gonna happen next. There’s also the adventure companion’s hand, helping you over a big rock or encouraging your first night dive. A friend’s hand giving strenght with no need of any words. Mother’s, brother’s, friend’s hands, holding yours when you are laying down with no will for anything. Hot hand and cold hand, confident hand and shaking hand, a hand that knows what it’s doing and hand that doesn’t even want to know.Some of the greatest moments of life involve holding hands.