And then sometime later, I think maybe it was 1 AM—or it felt like 1 AM—you started giving me bottles of water to drink. You were still laughing. I thought you were still drunk, except for this continual act of kindness.
You were a spring. Over and over. You produced bottle after bottle. We danced and you gave me water. We screamed and you gave me water. We sat on the stairs and tried to keep warm and you gave me water. I think maybe you saved my life that night.
I think maybe I learned that watching out for someone can also be romantic. I think maybe that’s the the best kind of romance there is.