I want to quote something first from Kit Lo hangs out with a girl... before I go on:

We (Didi and myself) held hands on our way to Carnegie Hall. I was so... unsure if I should've done that, but it felt so thrilling. It's like my hands are not cold anymore. It's the heat that counts.

The feeling of holding her hand is not unlike walking on the edge of a cliff. My heart raced, pounding so fast, that it doesn't sound like heartbeats, but to a dull and obstinate hum... It felt like a pressure cooker, locked up, and boiling quick. Her hand was warm, yet I felt like a nuclear reactor.

Holding Didi's hand was the adrenaline rush I wanted so bad. It beats even compiling my first Linux kernel by light years! If it were not for my restraint, I would've french kissed her in front of Carnegie Hall. Okay, I really don't know how to kiss her. I want to let out the bulk of the pressure somewhere, somewhere safe... I just had to sweat it out, letting myself cool down... oh well.

How's it like for you to hold someone's hand?

The feeling of holding someone's hand, the hand of someone you are enamoured with is amazing. The last time I held someone's hand (in that way..) I remember feeling as if electricity was going through my body. He took my hand, and looked at my palm in his. Then he took my finger and placed them to his lips and kissed them gently. I traced his lip-shape, and literally shivered. Then we snuggled up, and watched a movie. I never felt so safe, happy, and loved.

It's a totally electrifying feeling, the same as the feeling you get when you feel someone's breath close by on your cheek, when you feel (not hear, but feel) someone softly whispering in your ear. It's the most innocent, and yet the most erotic feeling in the world. I don't know for sure, being a virgin by choice, but I'm convinced that it's better than sex. It's got to be. It's the best feeling in the world.

Sweaty palms.

Well, not always. I have Large Hands, so the clammy but dreaded palm-sweat is avoided when merely my thumb is held.

That covers things as far as tactile sensation is concerned - what I feel. Internally, I want to play piano on them. I want to coax music out of their strings and bellows with fine manual dexterity. Trills, occasional grace notes, but mostly and finally a comfortable fermata.

Since I have young relatives, it's usually a sticky, squishy, dirty little hand grabbing for mine, not-so-gently. Tiny fingers with miniscule fingernails, formed from the dust of the earth by some recurring miracle. They grasp and pull, excited to drag me wearily hither and yon for one discovery after another.

It's the feeling of innocence and wide-eyed wonder.

Well, nerve impulses are transferred to areas of high sensory on your hand, defining shape.. ah yes, the shape of the hand. These impulses come from your brain. They tell you whether the person has disgusting scaly, sweaty, dishpan hands--or soft, gentle, coated-with-lotion hands. Hopefully, these nerves can also transfer output allowing you to squeeze the hand of holding harder, scratch their palm with your finger, or perhaps even let go. It's all up to you.

Unless, of course, you were talking about emotional feelings, but who would really know about that?

Holding someone's had with whom you are enamored with stays with you long after you let go. You can still feel the hand there. It's as if the psychic aura of everything that you want to say or hear is left in the palm of your hand. you can say much more by holding hands than speaking words. Almost communicating with glyphs

Holding someone's hand is like coming home.

Even if you don't really know what home is supposed to be like or feel like. You still have this vision in your brain of what you may have hoped it to have been, or what you wish it could be like.

You get that tingly feeling at the end of your finger tips and your toes. You feel like nothing else matters because you are there, in that moment with someone, and nothing is going to break it up.

Nothing is going to tear that person away from you.

There is no fighting, there is no shouting, there is no screaming.

There is just you and that special person, and that feeling of complete and utter acceptance. There is comfort in holding someone's hand.

There is security. There is pure joy.

Sometimes you don't want to let go. You don't want to let go of that feeling.

You're not used to it perhaps and you like the feeling,

and you don't want to let go,say goodbye,

and move on because you have finally found your home.

Yes indeed, holding someone's hand is like finally coming home.

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