All my life I had been looking for something, and everywhere I turned someone tried to tell me what it was. I accepted their answers too, though they were often in contradiction and even self-contradictory. I was naïve. I was looking for myself and asking everyone except myself questions which I, and only I, could answer. It took me a long time and much painful boomeranging of my expectations to achieve a realization everyone else appears to have been born with: that I am nobody but myself.
To hold someone’s hand is to offer them affection, protection or comfort. Holding hands remains a sign of intimacy between friends and lovers, couples and family, keeping two people together as they navigate the world around them. It as powerful a gesture today as it was two hundred years ago. Personally, I hope it never goes out of style.
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