i remember late night piano duets in the upper met, philosophical musings, and doing laundry together.

i remember brief hyper activity on the steps and then sitting in your room, slightly nervous, suddenly very aware of it being just the two of us. there was also that poster of the two hot chicks making out on the wall right behind us.

i remember swapping CD mixes (it all started with David Crowder), pasta telefono at paragon, talking about designing away messages, flying kites but not really being that into it, and trips to ny expecting something more but not quite sure what.

i remember persistent invitations, a coffee rendez-vous at the Biltmore, and your Wolverine-esque hairline.

i remember sitting side by side during lectures and wondering if you could hear my heart pulsating. you gave me such a rush.

i remember long silences, cloud shadows, having a tough time picking mountains or the sea, and you telling me you wished i was with you on ponte vecchio.

i remember too much attraction, happening much too fast.