All men are equal, but some men are more equal than others.
I reach for his hand, I hold it tight in mine. He turns to me and smiles, the same old smile full of tenderness. I want to carress his cheeck, I want to kiss his lips. But I don’t. Holding his hand is enough. Smiling to him is enough. Let’s not push this.
The toughest part is when I haven’t seen him for a while. Waiting at the airport arrivals, twisting my umbrella in my hands. He comes out, I wanna jump and kiss him, I wanna hug him tight, I wanna tell him how much I love him, how I missed him. I bite my lips hard, I bleed. We shake hands speechless instead. In the tram, my shoulder trembles when I touch his.