Four years ago today I stood before a group of friends and family and became Amanda Magee. I remember looking at you as the minister spoke, your skin sparkled under the hot July sun and you squeezed my hands. Your lips, wide in a brilliant smile, trembled ever so slightly, and it made me swoon. The crowd slipped away as I lifted my hand and caresssed your face, catching shimmering drops of sweat from your brow. I smiled remembering that first summer, and the sweaty kisses. Holding me close, eyes dancing, you’d lick your lips and growl in a sexy voice, “Salty dawg,” sending chills of delight through my whole body. I felt that same rush standing there at the altar four years ago.

Ten minutes ago standing outside the coffee shop you put your arm around my shoulders and I felt it all over again.