Falling in love is realizing that your hands have other uses besides lifting the boulder of expectations on your shoulders put there by your parents because you're finally good enough for someone.

Falling in love is realizing that your hands have other uses besides opening the door to the house you no longer consider home, not after they've thrown away the mix tapes you made when you were thirteen because "it's *******, music is *******, it doesn't make you money".

Falling in love is realizing that your hands are so unfamiliar with the real world because they haven't touched anything soft in years; they've been clenched for as long as they remember.

Falling in love is your hands learning that there are many different types of fabrics, and that cotton is his favourite because that's what he's usually wearing when you were ******* him and him ******* you.

Falling in love is realizing that arms are also important, especially when the one you love the most breaks down and there is nothing you could do besides to keep him so close to you, so tight, till his breathing slows.

Falling in love is realizing that yes, your hands have extensions called fingers, and yes, they are delicate, and yes, they fit well with his, and yes, the fourth finger is where the ring goes.