This time, it doesn't feel like I'm running on the shore separating the sands from not liking her and the seas of liking her; it feels like I just ran from the shore into the sea. I felt it last night when Sean was driving us home: I was wearing her pink peacoat, she was wearing my green Gap sweater and my arm was around her- every time that her head met my arm out of an endearing move in which seemed like that was her way of acknowledging my arm, my heart skipped. I just hope I don't come out of the ocean anytime soon, complaining that the water is too cold.