But it felt like my feet were falling through the ground and my hands were holding onto him for dear life as if this moment was going to disappear. Romantic playlists burned into CDs. Hearts embroidered into scarves. Soft kisses on foreheads. Dark theaters on rainy Friday nights. Dainty gold jewelry against soft skin. French poems written while drunk. Protective hands against your hips guiding you through crowds. I felt all of it at once.
