It's funny how people remember situations. You don't recall what song was playing, nor the color dress I wore, but I do.
"I remember how your eyes looked and how your hands felt in mine." You said.
"I remember how your lips made me feel dizzy and light. How your presence made the room feel empty, just you and me. No one else at that moment." I replied.
We kept digging in our thoughts, searching for the answer, for the moment when we fell in love. Analyzing each second we shared. We tried to piece together what we were, studying the fibers of our connection, the intricate crevices of the times we spent swimming in each other's gaze.
"I don't think it was a single moment. I find pieces of our love scattered like crumbs on a table across the history of us. Little fragments of magic, that when put together, they translate into the reason why I gravitate towards you." He answered, gently pushing the loose hairs out of my face.
"Yes, I agree," I whispered, "and this moment right now, is one of them."