And older men would’ve written sonnets Or become sundown sycophants But all I did was lay there with you In the dark there holding hands

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It was sweet and it was simple It was February 5th It was cold outside And I’ll always still remember where you live We were curled up in your twin bed And I’ll never truly understand

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The most romantic moment Of my entire adolescence Because I’ve held hands before I’ve touched lips and I’ve had moments But the thing that’s changed my life Is the thing that’s come the closest

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Holding onto you in the tenderest of moments Innocently introspective beats all its opponents In the dark inside the room you share With your brother and your cat Your TV and you and me Dozing off just to bring me back

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It was sweet, my heart was still No anxiety and no thrill Just a peace my bones to chill Just your hand in mine to fill

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Like a rule and like a riddle The steady beating in my chest Thought too much and thought too little This will never let me rest Because in those momentous hours I had never known before

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Was my heart and how you’d held it You had left ajar the door

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Now I see you in the morning In the too-bright sun that burns And I miss you on the porch Looking out and seeing words But we didn’t say a thing

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Just a giggle and a sigh And your breathing very still It was far too sweet to think

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You’re a feeling I can’t quell When your shoulder brushes mine And you lean your tired head Does it come as a surprise? Cuz you remember my first hair cut And our lack of introduction

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And now I see you in the darkness When my eyes are well adjusted

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Your hands are like a man’s But I know you’re just a boy You’re mature and you’re secure You understand that there’s no choice You believe me and you see me

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And you truly know what’s right I thank your mother that she had you I thank your that he’s quiet

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I will listen to your favorite music I will listen to your voice And I will love you because knowing you means not having any choice Your heart’s beating and your language The love you give me when you’re tired I will enjoy us like a movie

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That makes you laugh instead of scared Your leg will touch mine under the table And I will finally understand

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TLDR: The most romantic moment of my life happened when a family friend and I went to his room during a party being hosted at his house, sat in his bed, yapped for a while and then laid side by side watching TV. I can’t pinpoint the exact conversation but it was a very not-cliche version of “omg your hands are so small” because my pinky is insanely disproportionate to my other fingers. Either way, he playfully grabbed my hand and just- never let it go. And I still rmemeber it to this day.

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Nothing romantic has ever happened between us, and although I think he’s the perfect guy and know for a fact he was raised right (which is rare nowadays), I don’t think anything ever will. He’s one of my most treasured friends, and yet I know for a fact that despite the relationships I’ve been in in the past or the intimacy I’ve experienced, I know for a fact that was the most tender, romantic moment of my life.

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We held hands for like an hours before our presences were requested at the party. It never felt awkward, didn’t even have my heart racing or make me nervous. It was comfortable. Sweet. Serene, peaceful, lovely?? And we didn’t talk about it afterward because what was there to say? Intimacy between two friends who care about each other as innocent as a hand hold but more significant than any kiss ive ever had

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He’s two years younger than me and isn’t interested in relationships, has little to no interest in casual intimacy, and has no interest outside of nearly familial for my sister and I. As a girl who grew up seeking male validation in unnecessary and unhealthy places, I think it really just raised the standard of intimacy from a needy, rushed, sexual thing to a clear fact that all you need is love and caring to get healthy and real intimacy

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I’ve always wanted to write a song but I’ve never been an instrument player or very good at creating a lyrical flow, but I have been writing mediocre poems since I discovered the notes app on my brick of an ancient iPad when I was 8, so this is what I have. It’s either this or adding to the tragedy that is my diary note, and I save that for special moments of concern and despair

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