I love holding your hand. Quite simply. The way you manage to slip your fingers into mine when I'm not looking. Whether we're sitting side by side, or we're walking/I'm dragging you towards who knows what. I love the way our hands fold together quite perfectly. I've held other hands, and it doesn't feel the same. Other hands make my knuckles hurt, they dig into my skin. But ours are perfect. Which, yes, is strange, given the damage you did to yours. But to me, that 'flaw' makes your hands all the more perfect. They are unique. They are yours. And I miss them. It's been a long time since I felt your hand in mine. I wonder if I'm remembering it correctly. I hope I am. Because I truly love just holding your hand.
Love, Rachel.
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