I held my boyfriends hand yesterday. I caught it, as I usually do on University College Cork campus and held it until we reached the main gates, only this time I didn’t let go. We moved along the Western Road, towards Washington Street, and as we reached the innards of Cork City something strange lingered over me.

I had become anxious, and soon I wasn’t speaking, I was afraid.

I shot glances around in my silence, searching for anyone who might do us harm, I felt an unease as cars slowed down next to us…I wondered whether they would shout “faggot,” or “queer,” at us, as they had done before in previous relationships of mine and other eras of times when I felt like showing my love and affection in the act of simple hand holding. I wanted to keep holding because it was cold, and it felt so comforting…