If you are holding hands with others, you can't hold a gun!

Instinctively I started to panic when Dr. Martinez strapped my arm down, andthen the panic just melted away, la la la.Someone took my other hand. Fang. I felt his calluses, his bones, hisstrength.“I’m so glad you’re here,” I slurred, smiling dopily up at him. I took inhis startled, worried expression but dismissed it. “I know everything’s fineif you’re here.”I thought I saw his cheeks flush, but I wasn’t too sure of anything anymore.

As we were about to cross the road, Davin suddenly grabbed my wrist and held me back a moment; a car peeled out of the driveway and roared past us. “Geez,” I gasped, and then, glancing at him curiously, I added, “Thanks.” He didn’t say anything, but slowly released my wrist. Before he completely withdrew, I took his hand and interlaced my fingers through his. He looked at me, his lips parted in surprise, but then he smiled shyly and gave my hand a squeeze as we kept walking. It gave me a feeling of nervous flutters in the best way. As we walked up to the doors, Jill and Laurel came bursting out the exit.

There's a big moon shining on the yard, chalking our way onto the lane and along the road. Kinsella takes my hand in his.As soon as he takes it, I realise my father has never once held my hand, and some part of me wants Kinsella to let me go so I won't have to feel this.It's a hard feeling but as we walk along I begin to settle and let the difference between my life at home and the one I have here be.He takes small steps so we can walk in time. I think about the woman in the cottage, of how she walked and spoke, and conclude that there are huge differences between people.

Nothing in this world compares to the comfort and security of having someone just hold your hand.

Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.

I felt sad.I felt cold.I felt hurt.I felt forsaken and lonely.I felt doubtful and hesitant.I felt scared and deeply worried. I felt different, unknown, and unwelcome.I felt empty and woefully neglected.I felt weak and intimidated.I felt withdrawn and shy.I felt utterly hopeless.Then you held my hand, and I felt better.

It’s not that we have to quit this life one day, but it’s how many things we have to quit all at once: music, laughter,the physics of falling leaves, automobiles, holding hands,the scent of rain, the concept of subway trains... If only one could leave this life slowly!

Finally, I laugh. Genuine and normal sounding. And then my date says the best thing that he couldpossibly say: “It’s okay. I haven’t been on one of these [dates] in a while either.”My smile triples in size.Josh grins. “Just give me your hand.”“W–what?”“Your hand,” he repeats. “Give it to me.”I extend my shaking right hand. And – in a moment that is a hundred dreams come true – JoshuaWasserstein laces his fingers through mine. A staggering shock of energy shoots straight into myveins. Straight into my heart.“There,” he says. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.

Ah, what happiness it is to be with people who are all happy, to press hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes.