Summary:

You never held my hand. Did you know that? Your hand never touched mine. It touched everywhere else on my body. It would graze the small of my back when you would shove me forward, if I didn’t go where you wanted me to. It locked around my jaw after you’d punched me there, if I didn’t answer you correctly. It squeezed my forehead, when you’d grab it and shout at me for looking at other guys, although I wasn’t. I never was. I promise.
I guess handholding just seemed normal to me, and normal was what I craved more and more every day. It was my biggest wish that maybe one day you would just do it and surprise me. Everytime you reached out, I got all excited. My heart would start racing. I would feel light and fluttery; that nervous feeling you get before you sing in the school talent show. A deep pouding sound would cruise through my ears and envelop me when I saw where your hand was headed. I was aware that it would come coasting towards me, but I still got my hopes up everytime. It was easy to do this, considering you’d appoligize after every hit.