I suppose I am just a hopeless romantic and lately, I am unapologetically so.
I love romantic comedies and I cry at the drop of a hat. Little gestures melt my heart. I love flowers in all of their forms.
I love the human hand. Of all the parts of the body, there is nothing more special than your hands. They pose the biggest threat (hence handcuffs) but they are also capable of the gentlest touch and reassurance.
Hands speak a universal language. You don’t need to speak Chinese to calm someone from China who doesn’t speak English…you can use your hands to convey the message easily and compassionately.
Hand signs can tell someone to hurry or to stop. They can say “I’ve had enough to eat” even, “I love you.”
Hold my hand, and I will likely melt into the rest of you. I love having my hand held. I love being touched. Not mauled, but touched, gently, casually or sensuously.
Lately, I feel like I’m 16 again. I was having lunch with a friend of mine, Andrea; we are able to say anything to one another. She said something to me that was so simple yet unambiguous and took me a little by surprise. She simply said “you can hold my hand if you want to.” I wanted to, so I did. It felt so nice.
Through lunch and after, our fingers explored each other’s hands. I felt young again. I began to chip away at the fear I may never find someone to love me again. What a simple gesture. You can hold my hand if you want to.
Andrea is so pretty. Her eyes are mischievous and pure. Her hair and skin are so soft. She is tall and slender, and like me, she is a little shy. She’s wicked smart, has a fun sense of humor and is a gentle soul. I love looking into her eyes and seeing her smile.
If you look at your hand right now you will notice that in its relaxed state there are spaces between your fingers. I have them too. That’s where my fingers belong, in the spaces between her fingers.
As I continue my transition to fully female, I am rediscovering so many things, not the least of which is re-defining my sexuality. As a male, we are very crotch centric and outcome based. As my body chemistry is now that of a female, that is no longer the case. There are erogenous zones I never imagined and the “outcome” of things isn’t an issue. It’s just…. nice. It’s less frantic and more playful and unhurried.
I have been questioning so many things in my life. Since that first lunch, I have seen Andrea many more times. It’s a little confusing to me, or at least my old way of thinking, because of my need to put a label on things. I can’t decide what our relationship is. Andrea is in a committed, if not monogamous relationship with another girl. Everyone is aware of this arrangement. If a label is needed I hear it is “Polyamorous.” This is all very new to me. I tend to be monogamous and respect her relationship with her girlfriend, Gwen, although I have been assured time and again that all is well. No worries.
So…I suppose we are dating. I feel kind of giddy. After seeing a movie just after New Years, we returned to her place and cuddled on her couch for a while. Time seems to absolutely fly when we are together. When I left I went to give Andrea a hug and we ended up kissing each other – our first kiss. The first other person besides my ex, I’ve kissed in such a very long time. It was gentle, unhurried, tender and sexy. My head was swimming and my heart was doing loop the loops as I drove home.
The skin on the top of my hand at the junction where my fingers join my hand (the proximal phalanges) is sensitive and feels very good to have that touched or stroked. The inside of the elbow in the crook of my arm is another place. My point being that the whole body has become a playground of potential erogenous zones.
One night I just put my head in her lap and Andrea just gently stroked my hair and rubbed my head while we talked. It was heaven on Earth.
This past Friday, we got together for another date. This time we went out for dinner and then back to her place. We picked up pretty much where we left off with tender kisses and exploring each other’s body in a way it hasn’t been explored before. It’s difficult to describe and impossible to forget the feelings I felt. My whole body was singing a song from my soul. Before I knew it, it was pushing 4am! Are you kidding me? I really am acting like a 16 year old with no curfew! It was so nice. There was no pressure, no pretense, and no hurry. Just two people exploring one another and very much enjoying the journey.
Holding her hand is an unspoken connection, it makes me feel secure, even more relaxed. Wrapped in her arms I feel safe.
So, where do we go from here? I don’t know. I really like Andrea. I feel a connection to her. We share a lot. Yet she is with someone else that she loves. I have no wish to come between them and she has no intention of permitting that to happen either. But she seems to want to see me more. I suppose, just take things one day at a time and not overcomplicate what is already (for me anyway) a complicated dynamic. But it seems to work, partly due to everyone knowing exactly what’s going on. This is all so new to me.
Such a simple thing, holding hands…we can use them to hurt or heal,
to explore, to caress, to stroke, to gently pinch, or scratch, or knead.
Your hands are incredible gifts attached to the end of your arms.
For once, Facebook seems to have the right label…my relationship status? “It’s Complicated.” But I’m happy…and isn’t that what matters?