Knocked down ...

The spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly.

Starting off with the thought of holding hands with somebody, this gets a little bit nostalgic. I’ve held hands with people I cannot and care not to recall. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with that. People forget given a time frame but of course, people only forget those they want to forget and remember only the things that don’t hurt them. And maybe holding hands with somebody is one of those things we remember because it doesn’t hurt as much as its imminent and eminent aftermath. But it’s not like every time we held somebody’s hand, its context should romantic. Similarly, the context is not necessarily innocent to begin with. But it kind of feels good with the right person and it feels like death with another. Everything depends on the context.

Still, I’m like this right now because my hands feel lonely.

I’ve been holding your hands for so long; the duration being longer than anybody else’. And now it seems that it has become hard for me to let go. But I feel it slipping away. Gradually and expectedly, I’m letting it go primarily because it’s not mine to hold and secondly because you have to us for something else. It’s one of the hardest things I’ll ever do and perhaps you know but I’m betting on you don’t. Chances are, you’re a wall who’s unreceptive to anything.

I could’ve let you go easily. But now I doubt myself more because you showed me something I never thought I’d see. Rain fell from your eyes  and you caught it with your palms. I saw a man who’s tired. It made me aware of the gap we had between us. We live in different worlds separated by time. And I could’ve held your hand if I was brave enough. But no. when rain fell from your eyes during a summer afternoon, I stared, disturbed and mesmerized pretending that I understood. And now I think it would take a lot more than distance and time to make me let go of the hands that I held on for so long.

 D':