Friday, March 7, 2025 at 5:28 PM

Once upon a time, in a country far away, before time was time, males and females of all ages would walk together through the streets holding hands. They held hands at restaurants, in the movies, at parties, everywhere they went. It was a sign of the bond between them, of the love and respect and admiration they shared with each other. That country was your city or town or village, and is now all lost in the mist of time! Holding hands made them feel inseparable, invincible, and certain that they were made for each other.

Nowadays the only people we see holding hands are politicians caught cheating on their spouses or caught buggering some 12-year-old, or in deep do-do with their constituents. They hold hands with their spouses to engender sympathy from the jury, or from their voters. Wat a ting!

Romance, like chivalry, is slowly dying. Nowadays romance is more a business transaction than the losing of your heart, body, and soul, over this perfect person you fall for. People marry for money or power or superficiality. The heartbreak of a lost love is quickly replaced by the new love. The poor frog doesn’t marry the princess anymore, unless it’s a rich frog.

I will never forget the pride and the high I felt walking with my love, even if that love was fleeting; and in my youth it was very fleeting. As a teenager, I was in love every 5 minutes, until the One came along. That’s when you become a poet and a writer. You write the most ridiculous lines to the person of your dreams; and the love letters, oh my, they were long and repetitive and beautiful. You felt like you were actually floating in the air; you weren’t hungry, you couldn’t sleep, because you were in love. Holding hands.

I would write love letters every day. I couldn’t wait to see her, to hold her hands and wander the streets with her, and the feelings were mutual. Those letters and poems had the intended effect on your love interest, because he or she understood that it came from your heart, and not from some random card you bought for him or her. Holding hands.

People don’t write love letters anymore, for the most part. Men don’t open doors for the ladies or hold their chairs for them to sit down or share their handkerchiefs if their partner is crying or serenade their loves late at night. Now we text and meet at a restaurant or at the movies, and we pay for our own tickets or our own tabs, but we’re in love! Holding hands.

Women don’t want roses; everyone gets roses. She wants us to put thought into what we give her. We have to think outside the box and surprise her sometimes; they appreciate it that much more, if they really care about you. And sometimes the simpler the gift, the better. Not always, but sometimes. Holding hands.

I know I am generalizing. There are still those who believe in romance and write love letters and poetry to the love of their lives, but it is much rarer these days. Like everything else, we, of an ancient generation, did things right. At least that is what we tell ourselves. Love and relationships, like everything else, have evolved and have metastasized into something almost unrecognizable. Holding hands.

My wish is that everyone could feel that tingle, that skipped heartbeat, that heat in our body, especially in the loins, by just holding hands. And I wish that I had never let go of that hand.

Glen