You know how when you hold someone’s hand and they rub their thumb on yours or open your hand in their lap and individually touch every part of your fingers and palm and back of your hand? Imagine if you’re sitting there on the first date holding hands and your date asks if you know why people do that? You just thought it was a thing. Some random act that happened and something you liked for no particular reason. That’s what I thought, until he answered the question for me… Apparently, you touch to remember.
You touching every part of it to make sure that you can remember it when you’re no longer holding hands. To remember what parts of your hand fit where, the spot where his fingertips reached your hands compared to where yours did on his because yours are so small in comparison.
Everything about your hand from the freckles and dots to the creases and scratches differentiates your hand from someone else’s. A scratch that you got from a fence, someone else got from a tool. Some bumps in your hand are natural, in theirs it’s because of screws. You bite your nails because you get nervous, they cut theirs to keep them as short as possible for work.
Your hands touch a Mac, theirs touch a PC. Yours touch pencils and textbooks, theirs touch wood and pipes. Yours touch Cookie Dough, theirs touch Half Baked. Yours touch a golden husky, theirs touch a yellow lab. Yours touch books, theirs touch cars. Yours touch keys to type, theirs touch keys to shoot. Yours touch Starbucks cups, theirs touch Wawa cups. Yours make the sorority sign, theirs give a thumbs up.
And then your hands touch theirs.
And while they touch, you tell them about everything you touched and what has touched you. How until cookie dough, the only acceptable ice cream to you was vanilla. How school wasn’t your strong suit. How hard it is to watch Marley and Me when owning a lab. That there are better things on the Starbucks menu than just a frappuccino. How sorority rush works. What a 3k computer build is. Benefits to a secluded cabin compared to cookie cutter neighborhoods with block parties. Why sad music from soundcloud is better than any song on the radio.
And yet, your hands fit together.
You get texts explaining more of what they’ve touched. The play by play of their day including what they’re eating at grandma’s and then what their all time favorite food is. Trade texts saying “top three pet peeves, go” to make mental notes of things they don’t want to deal with and to figure out how you can avoid them. Getting to know more about what they like. And they prove to know and want you when one day at 5pm your phone screen reads:
“Have you heard of the song Shotgun Rider by Tim McGraw”
Your response: “Yes, why?”
And you get a response a thousand times better than “I have tickets”…
Their response: “It reminds me of you.”
So your hands, which have touched who- knows- how- many inches of the earth somehow fits with someones who has touched a different who- knows- how- many inches of the earth to touch another who- knows- how- many inches of the earth together. And while you do, you hope they don’t leave, because you started to pay such close attention at night one, that you can remember every little thing about when you were with them to how your hand fit around theirs, in theirs and on theirs.
But they leave. And before you know it you were dropped like a sack of puppies. God only knows why.