05/25/17 10:41am, on my bed in Beijing, China

Of your memories in your memory bank, there are these:

You both wake up late for HJ’s train. He shoots out of bed, his panicked face still somehow radiant. He wears the fluorescent green shirt you like.

He shows you some crazy video with some dude who carves vaginas onto Thanksgiving foods. The room is dark save for the glow of the computer screen. You kick your legs into the air with glee and laugh, laugh, laugh.

He kisses you down your belly. His left hand rests on your abdomen. His right hand clasps yours. He looks at you, right at you. His legs alternate between dangling off the bed and swinging back and forth, bent at the knee like a kid during playtime.

You kiss his neck and look out at the blue sky.

You lay your head against his back and search for a lightening bolt to follow the thunder.

You run your lips against his ear. You listen to the sharp intake of his breath.

You grasp his sweaty back and bring his body to yours. You open your eyes. You find he is looking at you. His gaze is too intense to hold. His eyes are so very blue.

You say Let’s try to make the most awkward kiss ever. You think for five minutes. You lean in and slowly push your tongue in between his front teeth and lip. You simultaneously twist away in peals of giggles and laugh, laugh, laugh.

You stop for ice cream at some place called Dari Bee. He gets banana foster and you get apple pie. You bike home with a cone in your left hand and the bike handle in your right. You watch as a bead of sweat drips down his back.

You are stressed about finals. You spend the entire day on the second floor of the library in the dark stacks. When he comes he brings a boxful of cookies. Under the table, he crosses his ankles around yours.

You are on top for the first time. He looks at you and says, Wow. He comes in one minute.

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