remember how you picked me up from the norfolk airport in your uniform and you were late? remember how you told me 'i'm so glad you're here'? that was such a strange thing for you to say, knowing you now, it is strange that you said that to me at all. we held hands in a rental car and i remember your thumb, i remember the movement of your thumb, exactly how that felt. we picked up salads from mcdonalds and went to a hotel.

and in d.c. riding in a cab, our driver not knowing where our restaurant was exactly, and us not knowing either, exactly. we drank champagne, and i still wonder if i heard you correctly that night inside me. you fell asleep and i watched dr. strangelove. and the next day at the smithsonian, remember how you took a nap on a bench next to the mister rogers exhibit? remember your head in my lap? you were so tired always.

and then remember how you drove 13 hours, was it 13 hours, straight from north carolina to knock on my louisiana window? remember how you drove straight there? we slept in my green twin bed after kissing and furiously rushing into each other. i think you showered too.

and do you remember the first time i saw the snow in new york, the first time i'd ever seen snow, real snow? we bought matching hats and gloves from an old lady in the mall. an orange coat for me, a brown coat for you. we looked at our reflections in the glass of a deserted store window.

a few weeks later we took a train from albany to shreveport. remember how i said i've always wanted to be on a train and how you bought tickets and we went? we slept in our seperate bunks. i couldn't stop staring out of the window. i think we fought. it is the first time i remember you talking about calling it off, do you remember?