I privately hated the difference in heights between me and my boyfriend. We were too close in height. He was 5'10 and I was 6'. If he were just a bit shorter or me just a bit taller, we could more easily walk with arms over shoulders or waists. As it was, we struggled to see who would put their arms where and, well, it just never worked out.
Mind you, it wasn't a deal breaker. It wasn't even an issue. Just an annoying thing. Like the way he woke up on Saturdays at 6am and wanted to clean the house from top to bottom. But I digress.
One witchy night in October, we watched scary movies and went to a haunted house and talked under the full moon before heading out to the bars. I noticed how tall his boots made him look? It was odd, he seemed to be taller than me? I looked down and my pants were dragging the floor. Had I gotten shorter? For a brief moment, he seemed to be about 6'1" and I seemed to be about 5'9". By the time we got home from the bars, we had returned to our normal heights. But, for a brief time, we fit when we walked hip-to-hip.