Hand-in-Hand

This could be my wrap up entry on the recent visit from my cousins. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, they are very much in love with each other. Or at least their public displays of affection would suggest that.

One example of their p.d.a. is how they would go everywhere walking hand-in-hand. This is all sweet and squishy to a point; then it becomes annoying. It crosses the boundary when the streets in Time Square are overflowing with other tourists that can’t get by because a certain couple won’t unleash their hands from each other. The frustrated looks, the curse words spoken aloud by the people who can’t get through, the football tackle tactics to try to break them up – all would have been obvious to me even if I didn’t speak the language. But to my cousins, it didn’t make an impression whatsoever.

For a while I overlooked this because it was sweet until I realized that my cousin was holding his girlfriend’s hand so tightly. Why would he do this? Why was he fretting so badly when she wasn’t in his hand? It occurred to me then that the hand holding was a way to control his girlfriend. Upon this epiphany, I started to shake my head and tsk tsk to myself. It stinks to project your insecurities on others.

I’m sure I do it too but I certainly don’t go out of my way to hold my husband’s hand. (Most of the time because he’s got insanely sweaty palms!) Every so often we’ll hold hands in the street and sometimes (on that rare blue moon) we’ll kiss in front of other people. But this is all incredibly rare. I’d like to say we don’t do this because we are mature. I also think it’s because my husband isn’t much for p.d.a’s. Plus, hand-holding is nice when there isn’t an ulterior motive.