Dating you always seemed like we were holding hands at first.
Tightly gripped and firm.
Then you started to loosen your grip and I held mine in place.
Still tightly gripped and firm.
Over time...your hand started slipping from mine and I still held on.
Until that night...when you finally yanked your hand away from mine.

Now I hold my own hand...in a fist.
Tightly gripped and firm.

Waiting to punch you in the throat.