I. Ice skating in circles, two teenage hands steady one another in a pure white rink while country music plays. The glitter from my hair falls onto my cheeks and gets stuck to his lips. Life is easy here; we hold so much potential.
II. Between a sunset and a sunrise in a tent, we never slept. His fingertips traced the scars on my hands as he asked me for my story.
III. In the dark of a dorm room, everything was solved with his callused hand on the small of my back, raking his memory into my skin.
IV. Against the cool burgundy counter top, he placed his palm against the back of my hand. Unable to intertwine my fingers with his, I knew we would never be open to more.
V. His hand and mine-silhouettes against a white-blinded window, dancing around one another in the dark. We saw the world with our hands, felt the creases and scars.
VI. Hands grasping one another over coffee in a parked car on a hot southern night. And then my palm against his lips, my lips against the back of my hand. Too many barriers to tear down on our own.
VII. At night, my hand searches cold sheets looking for his, to fill it, to hold it, to know it.
A few days (weeks?) ago, I wrote why I like men’s hands:
• Hands I do this (stare at them when I’m interested in a man) for multiple reasons. First of all, if I end up dating this guy, those are the hands he’s going to be using to hold my hand, to move the hair out of my face, and a few other things. so they’ve gotta be good hands. What constitutes as good hands? Strong ones. Ones that aren’t lotioned and lathered, but callused and rough. Thick fingers, short fingernails, and some scars are always a nice addition. The point is that good man hands demonstrate work and ability. They can withstand struggles and move mountains. I respect dirt and oil that is permanently in the creases of their palms, and I even forgive dirt under the fingernails. It’s just so hot. I also look to see if there’s a wedding ring. While it’s unintentional and DARN sexy, I do respect marriage and will immediately discount him.
There is more. Like my friend Tim said, you learn from someone’s hands. You learn about them. You learn about love. You learn about life.