“Anchored Like Otters”

I told you I was writing about otters. What I didn’t say is—it’s about you.

Image from Pinterest.

I found out something interesting today—it’s about otters. Random, right? I learned that otters hold hands while they sleep so they won’t drift away from each other in the ocean. It’s honestly the most adorable thing I’ve heard all day.

While reading that article, I couldn’t help but think of the time you held my hand. I remember it so clearly—how your hand fit perfectly into mine, like a missing piece of a puzzle. I even took a picture of it—my hand holding yours—because I love collecting little fragments like that. Funny how reading about otters led me back to that moment with you.

I remember you gently whispering, “May I hold your hand?” At the time, I didn’t think too much of it and just let you, but now I wonder—why did you ask? Was it, like the otters, because you were afraid I might drift away from you? Or did you hold my hand simply because you wanted to?

Maybe I’m overthinking, but I love how that little otter fact reminded me of us. Because just like them, I’d want to hold your hand forever—not to keep you as mine, not out of possession, but in the sweetest way possible.

And maybe I’ll never really know why you held my hand that day. But I do know how much it meant to me. Because in that moment, I felt anchored. Anchored like otters.