After a summer apart, you pedaling toward Gorse as fast as your legs allowed, dropping your bike to the ground, and running over to me to scoop me up in your arms and kiss me hello.
Sitting on a bench watching the winds sweep across Lower Lake as sunshine kissed our shoulders, then the sound of your laughter as a heron flew directly at my face and landed a foot away from me and refused to stop looking at me or move away from the bench.
Waking up to find our hands the way we left them when we fell asleep, together with fingers intertwined.
Dancing to "What Does the Fox Say" at my friend's wedding and being so unabashedly our ridiculous selves in front of the 40+ crowd. That was two weeks ago.
Midnight walks around campus with only fireflies to keep us company.