holding hands with a girl
ariella. 18 years old.
you held her hand all through costco. voluntarily. that’s the first you have ever done that with a person outside of our family! you told her about your cars, how they’re little, not so big, and how you also have so many MTA trains. you watched her, admired her, waited for her to finish doing her things so you could hold her hand again. you asked to sit next to her in the car ride back home. and when we dropped her off, you told me all about your feelings for her.
“i like ariella so much.” “i see, baby. why do you like her?” “because she holds my hand.”
a few minutes later,
“i love ariella.” “i can see that! she is really so nice.”
a few minutes later,
“i’m so sad.” “why?” “because ariella left.” “it is so sad when the people we like have to leave.” “mama, can you take me out of the seat and hold me?”
i spiraled after this. imagining you getting married and falling head over heels for a girl. leaving me. i cried hard. you held me and you said you wouldn’t leave me.
“don’t cry anymore, mama."