There is something about walking along holding hands that is so intimate, and getting that wrong can be really uncomfortable.
I had a coffee with someone I've been chatting with online at my local cafe. He was lovely to the staff and took a real interest in their business. It was nice. We talked of family, history, kiwi holidays, Māori rights and the last year of COVID craziness. His paisley shirt showed a flair for the artistic and detracted from his bricklayer background. He has a gorgeous smile, and a gentle manner.
More small businessman than political activist, but open minded and open hearted. So that should suit me.
But he keeps checking out my body – understandable once but regularly. And looking at my chest. So my impression immediately changes to sleazy but polite. And from there any touch is uncomfortable.
As we walk away from the cafe he grabs my hand. I go with it for a minute, but under the circumstances it's all wrong. Maybe in a week or two it would work but the combined discomfort tips the balance. And that's that.
Trying to work out what touch is right and what timing suits it is really hard and I don't hold that against anyone but somehow holding hands is signficantly more intimate than a hug or a kiss on the cheek. I think about past partners and realise there's only one or two I'd be comfortable holding hands with, but I'd hug all on greeting.
I guess the only way to go is do what feels right for you and you'll soon find out what feels wrong for them. But responding to their signals is key. Good luck.
You hide in among the flowers
Popping up to test the sunshine
You lay in wait
A fleeting moment of fun
Among the petals
In the sun
Laughter tickles and becomes giggles
Our virtual touch makes me joyous
Giggling takes hold
I feel you breathing
The sun on my lap
Floating on a cloud
Rivers weave past below
I feel you breathing and it calms my heart
How to describe how it feels
Like moonlight sonata
A cherry blossom on a grey day
A butterfly’s first flight
A delicate balance
Sacrifice and the unkown await
Holding you briefly
Feels like sleeping after a sleepless night
Your warmth lingers on my chest
My arms remember
Are you speaking to me
Your voice excites me
I see double
A secret smile quickly passes
I feel the silk of your tie on my empty hand
Your collar undone in my gaze
My breath on your neck
Your lips waiting
My hands warm with the thought of touching you
My heart tenses up and my breath becomes deeper
I close my eyes and see the smooth nape of your neck, inside your open collar
I catch your gaze in my memory, an accidental ‘darling’, a deliberate dive into your soul
Desire runs through my body
To garlic and strong memories
For no apparent reason I remember you chopping garlic in your Terrace flat kitchen. It must be 25 years ago... Your hair softly sits on your neck. It was so smooth and shiny. Your shoulders strong, and your waist waiting for my arms to hold you. Watching you as you make me dinner, I was at peace. Comforted, secure, relaxed. There is so much love in cooking for someone else when you are new lovers. When you take the time to do your best for each other. It is such a special time.
A memory in the rain drops
On the road
In the dark
You are my fire
Keeping me going
Your voice soothes me
Your eyes light me up
Your cuddle gives me safety and love
Little hunk exasperates me with junk sex
Ok so I start chatting with a cheery young man mountain climber and chocolate eater. Seems cool. I say he's got life sorted – the great outdoors and chocolate all at once. Somehow, that generation alway end up trying to have online sex. Why? Fuck it's weird. I haven't met this guy but he wants to talk dirty. Ok, fine, understand. But sadly, I did actually want to meet him but now he hasn't even met me and he wants to visit my back entrance as it were!
I'm so pleased that my generation didn't have access to online porn in their youth. Imagine thinking that porn was all there is to sex! It's base. Really. Their idea of fun is a brazilian-ed crotch and a co-worker... if you see what I mean. That is so shallow. It breaks my heart to think of entire generations who expect that approach.
Honestly, where is your brain in this activity? Your heart, and your fingertips, your empathy and your endearment. Fast, slow, caring and carried away, none of these exist in this generation's idea of what is sexually exciting.
Getting used to one
Do you know that feeling of relief that you don't have any commitments this weekend? I can sleep in, I can do whatever I want, there's no-one to negotiate with, no-one to curtail my fun... It's great. It's empowering when it's right. And fantastic when you haven't had it for ages.
But sometimes, it's all too quickly followed by, oh my god, what am I going to do, why isn't anyone calling, where are my people, why haven't I worked out what to do with my life? And let's face it, too often the incredibly ridiculous feeling that you should have somehow taken over the world by now and you need to hurry up and do it.
Anxiety can ruin what on paper can be a perfect relaxing weekend with no demands, no push or pull. To manage that beast, I'm reminding myself that I've had lots of amazing experiences, and done heaps of stuff I'm proud of so I'm all good to take some time before my next step towards world peace... Reading, writing, drawing, playing, making stuff, fixing stuff, plenty of time to do my thing...
Just stop by on your way to yours
Share something silly or some news
Seeing a twinkle in your eye
Sharing a knowing smile
Or a bit of cheeky theatrics
A sneaky peek
A little mimicking or a flirtatious ruse
Or even better
A little prep together
And best of all – a cuddle
Before you go.