On A Whim
You took me to the botanical gardens in Ann Arbor, one day, on a whim. We skipped the two dollar entry fee and walked through the park instead. We followed the blue arrows for a few miles. Halfway through, you bent over and picked up the plastic wrapper from a two-pack of frosted donuts, carried it the rest of the way out of the woods, and threw it away when we got back to the parking lot. I was in love with you then.