. When we looked out the window as the wind blew big bottlecap-sized flakes of snow straight up towards the sky in the evening, and we were so pleased by that inversion of the way things normally are, and I could see the joy written on your face, I remembered that I love you.

. When we walked home from a party, stumbling a little bit, in the cold, and we saw a half-dozen deer, maybe the same ones that we saw driving back from the airport a month before, so graceful and poised, crossing the empty street, in the soft white lamplight, and you inhaled so sharply, I remembered that I love you.

. When we coated our noses and curled up together naked like twin birds in an egg, under the shell-colored down blanket that sheds feathers all over the bed, and touched each other’s hair, I remembered that I love you.