Holding Hands

We were walking in the crowded market when you offered to hold my hand. You were forced to walk in front of me, and you placed your hand on your back and flashed your palm at me. I could have grabbed it. But I just stared. And in a few seconds, the moment was gone.

Why didn’t I do it?

It was our third date. I think you’re cute, funny, and nice. You have lots of good qualities and I couldn’t stop staring at you all day.

I should have done it!

There’s a part of me that doesn’t like depending on people. Even if it’s something as silly as grabbing someone’s hand in a slightly crowded marketplace. I was right behind you, I wouldn’t have lost you if I didn’t hold your hand. I didn’t see it as necessary. A part of me doesn’t want to be a “burden”.

The other part of me was scared that I was misinterpreting a sign. Maybe your hand was itchy? What if I reached out and brushed your butt on accident? You were also a little bit ahead of me, what if I couldn’t reach all the way?

When it boils down to it, I just think too much.

Sorry I didn’t hold your hand. I’m lame. But if you ask me out again, I promise I’ll have more balls.



Anxious and Insecure

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