You said at dinner, “I’m curious what your favorite moment with me was.” And I said —
No favorite moment. You are my favorite moment. If that makes sense? I mean, everything you are is just this huge beaming circle of light in my mind, and I can’t parse that or define its contours; it’s just this boundless warmth beyond any sort of linguistic reason. I can name good moments. But those would be so arbitrary. They would just be what came to mind when I first thought of you. So right now the first memory that surfaces is the last time we had dinner together, and your soft face, and then because I just said ‘soft face’ I’m remembering this beautiful moment in a cab with you when we’re coming back from some party and our faces were locked into one prolonged kiss the whole time. The night of my birthday, back when we first started dating, comes to my mind too (because my birthday is close).
Sexually, I liked the moment on the dock in Italy.
Spiritually, I like the moments when I’m sick and I need you so bad, and I hold you with all of dear life like you’re medicine and how that actually makes me feel better.
Biologically, I like the moments of smelling you and you smell, maybe, bad. But I like the smell — because I love you and everything about you is good to me, so I continue to sniff you. And I like that the fact that I’m probably one of the only few people that thoroughly enjoys that smell. You know love is infinite and impossible to detail, that’s my answer.
I imagine if I see you 50 years from now, without seeing you for 50 years, at first you would be foreign, and it would be hard to invoke the way I feel about you right now… But after one glass of wine, a few hours of conversation, all these feelings would start to rush back like a déjà vu that can’t be shook off. It’s time lost, and memory never serves properly, but I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you after spending only five hours with you. And I’m pretty sure I can’t ever not love you.