The first time someone tried to hold my hand, I pushed him out of the car.
I didn’t understand.
No one understood.
There were those who were sarcastic: “You think you’re hands are holy?”
The touch,
All touches,
Any touch,
Was a huge deal to me.
I remember before I went to university,
he came and told me, “When I told my friends that you refused to hold my hand they asked me why I was still with you.”
“Then leave!” I exclaimed.