You and me laying together in front of the fire, pillows pilfered from the bed, the light flickering across your skin.

You and me skinning up the side of a mountain. You letting me go first, skiing long turns through powder off the ridge into the bowl. I stop at a rise and turn to watch you ski, the smile on your face, the expertise of your movements.

You and me all dressed up fancy in the back of a taxi, flirting and holding hands. You meet my coworkers and they like you. And then we dance together, a little drunk and off-kilter, but nevertheless accomplishing a fluid pattern, laughing and joyful, our own private time in the middle of a public space.

We go to a going away party for a friend. There is a card to be signed, which is hidden in the guest room of the apartment. I go in quietly to sign the card. Others have already signed it, and I see that you have signed it. I read what you wrote, and you sign off with Love, Russell and my heart shrinks and expands at the same time. You are loving, and you love your friends, and I appreciate that about you. And I know that you love me too, even though you’ve never told me.