He always hold my hand. Always.
And I have known him for ages.
No, this is not the typical cute-guy-next-door-whom-the-neighboring-girl-is-mooning-over story. Relax.
In fact, we are not even neighbor. However, we did go to the same school since elementary.
....
We were sitting in the school cafeteria: he ate sandwich and I played around with my mashed potato. Just a normal lunch hour in a school day. That, before the bully came and jeered at me. I was awfully scrawny, freckled, with a wisp of curly auburn hair during my childhood, an easy target for a bully. I do not really remember what the bully said to me, but I remembered the sob it triggered, since the jeering and mocking have been going on and on since the beginning of school year. I remembered I cried, my tears went down my cheek to my chin and dampen my skirt.
Then he stood up and put his hands on his hips. I remembered I lift my face and took a look at how furious he is. He told the bully to leave me alone and stop bugging me and he should have been treating everyone better. I remembered how the bully only lifted his eyebrows at first, but then decided to leave us alone as the bell rang. I remembered he took my hand and we walked together, hand in hand, to our classroom.
Before he turned the door knob, he let go of my hand.
....
It was a hot, extremely humid summer day. I sat on the swing in the porch, a glass of dewy iced tea in my hand. It was an uncomfortable day, not to add the fact that I just had my final year in middle school tainted with being dumped by my very first boyfriend.
I remembered he showed up some time after lunch, with his shiny blue bike. I remembered I put down my iced tea, gladly jumped on my own bike, and went to an ice cream parlor at the corner of the street with him. I remembered he took my hand after we parked our bikes and we walked together, hand in hand, to the shop.
Before he pointed at the Macadamia Brittle ice cream that he want to order, he let go of my hand.
....
He was just get dumped by his perfect girlfriend: the valedictorian cheerleader who are going to spend next year on philanthropic trip to Angola. She did not want to have the long distance relationship with him, and decided to call their relationship off. It was such a big slap for him, not to mention she told him right after junior prom.
I remembered I saw him sitting on the bleacher, alone. I remembered how the gym floor still covered with balloons and confetti as I walked toward him. I remembered I took his hand as he smiled weakly at me. I remembered how I told him that everything was fine and it was not the end of the world. And how we still have each other, anyway. I remembered he finally decided to go home, after driving me home.
Before he took out his car key, he let go of my hand.
....
It was the end of final exam week for our sophomore year in college and our third time deciding how our relationship as more than friend will never work. The time was never right for us: it was either I was too busy with my paper due, or he was too caught up with his part time job, or that his perfect high school sweetheart has just transferred to our campus.
I remembered how I felt so fed up with him, with us, yet still had this tiny, little drop of hope that we will work it out somehow. I remembered how he tried to consolidate and took my hand, but both of us realize it will not work out anyhow. I remembered we only exchanged weak, unconvincing smile, as we tried to busy ourselves with our drinks. I remembered when his perfect ex showed up, apparently he told her to come meet him after he met me, but she showed up earlier.
Before he called up her name, he let go of my hand.
....
And today is our one-decade-reunion for high school. I heard he was not involved with his perfect high school sweetheart anymore, but heaven knows how he is doing now. We are seeing each other less and less after sophomore year in college, although I still get his update from his social page on the internet.
I enter the restaurant that has been booked for the event reluctantly, not knowing what should I expect from this. I greet some of my friends, and finally take a seat beside my lab partner in Biology class. The third time the automatic door slides, I can see from the corner of my eyes that he is entering the restaurant. I am talking with my lab partner and other two girls about our life updates, so I do not greet him instantly.
But right after I am done talking with the girls, he waves at me and approaches me. He smiles and says "hello, how has it been?" and listens to my answer curiously and takes my hand. And he hold it quite some time, as we talk. Apparently he is busy with his big corporate work and has not been able to be in touch with anyone in high school until now. He also says that it is such a pleasure to see me again finally, and how he is happy that I am doing great. I smile and replies similarly, in a quite formal way.
Then he looks at my eyes and I realize that this reunion is a milestone for us. A milestone for how we are not going to be more than friends or anything. Although reunion is meant for reuniting old friends, families, and colleagues, it can also show you why the things are not working out the way you expect them to. And they probably never will work out. You can just see it, either from the talk or the way someone look at you. And that is what I realize when I took a look at his eyes.
This time, I let go of his hand.
