Monday, June 1, 2009

Mr. F. and I. Part V: Holding Hands

image taken from here

Not having dated much before Mr. F. (*cough* ever *cough*), I was at a loss to know how to initiate that first physical contact. The last time I had made physical contact with a boy that I liked was in fifth grade. That involved me chasing after him at recess and trying to pinch his neck. I may not have been super savvy at the age of 29 when it came to relationships, but I was pretty positive that Mr. F. would see it as a sign of insanity rather than affection if I started chasing him and pinching his neck. Therefore, I waited for him to initiate first contact.


So I waited……..and waited…….


And then, the moment came. We went to a movie. It was the perfect, cliché setting for young love: the lights were low, we were sitting near the back, my hands were cold thus giving him the perfect excuse to hold my hand (i.e. to warm them up). However, it wasn’t until the last 15 minutes of the movie that he made his move. He finally held my hand, overcoming the first hurdle of all relationships! It felt nice. But a bit awkward. However, I was content to stay awkward forever if it meant we were holding hands.


But then…..he let it go. After three whole minutes.


He let it go!


Do you know what that does to a girl to have a guy hold her hand and then after a few short minutes, for no apparent reason, let it go? It messes with her mind, people. Over the next few days, I analyzed (and over-analyzed) the situation. Did I not hold his hand correctly? Does he just not like to hold hands? What was wrong with me if men didn’t want to hold my hand?! These questions had to be answered, and so sisters were called and theories were put forth.


Weeks later, I learned that Mr. F. was worried about his hand being too sweaty (because he was nervous and hot.), and so he let go.


Ha ha ha ha. Yeah. I am so glad I am not dating any more. The second guessing of every little move made me crazy.


Even after all that, it was still a long time before there was any sort of natural and regular contact between us. Mr. F. likes to blame it on me, and I suppose he is right. Due to my hands being very cold most of the time, I have this habit of sitting on my hands, hiding them in pockets, and doing every thing in my power to make them as inaccessible as possible. Even now, if Mr. F. wants to hold me hand, he has to physically move them out of whatever current hiding place they are in. Oh well. Hand holding is a bit over rated. Hugging is much to be preferred.

5 comments:

joyce hanks said...

Holding hands is the best. I do agress hugs are great too. very funny story. Mr. F"s mother

Angela Noelle said...

Oh, how I love this tale! And oh, how too often nervey sweat is culprit; ending novice hand-holds.

Found you through...can't remember...but been subscribed a while.

Enjoy your work! - From NZ

Hizzeather said...

This made me smile...great post! :)

Washington Hills said...

Lady Susan, you are so awesome!

Lady Susan said...

Thanks guys! I love it when people enjoy my little stories. ;)

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