E is for earring.

You fumbled with the hotel keycard while my hands were in your hair, reaching under your sweatshirt to caress the bare skin of your chest. I giggled at the door, this seemingly insurmountable obstacle, and suddenly knew how the Mongols must have felt upon first sight of that tremendous wall. Just inside, you pulled my sweater over my head and we collapsed to the floor, but an earring was lost in the entanglement. My favorite pair, star-shaped sterling worth barely a pittance, lost once before but found in the plumbing of a different hotel room. Then I was heartbroken, but with you my heart was full; for as I’ve come to discover, earrings can be replaced, but you are irreplaceable.