What do you remember, baby?

I went for a walk tonight with my hubby into town. It was so clear out, and the kind of chilly that would make you cold unless you kept moving. We were both exhausted emotionally from school work: six page midterms on business or calculus and the like.
We walked down steep hills and lonely streets, past trees and on sidewalks, along main street and into the small business "Smoker's Choice". I meandered along the shelves and incense as he bought a pack, watched the other college kids fucking around in the back, bantered with the owner...and we escaped back into the cool dark.
Past the closed shops with window lights left on, past the houses and trees and street lights, up the steep mountain that is Cherry street. At the top we turned around to see what we had just climbed; to look back on the city, panting. We kissed. We kept walking.
When we got back to outside my dorm room, I turned to him and drew my hands along his collarbone and shoulders.
"What do you remember, baby? From our walk just now? The first thing- don't sift or choose, what do you remember?" He blinked and his eyes searched.
"I remember the top of Cherry street, when we stopped." He smiled.
indeed.
I remembered(as i told him then) the way walking into town, when we were walking down a curving street. We stopped when I said,
"Can I just hold you for a minute?"
It felt so human, so present, so real and right then as I held him. I was really holding him and him, me. His chest so substantial and breathing, and silence in the night. He nearly fell into me with his reply of yes, and his choking need to just be held as well. He was exposed so beautifully unabashed; so raw; so relieved and slightly surprising on the night air.
I ALSO remembered cherry street, like a faint vision coming in a pulse after the first. I didn't bother to remember the cigarette store, or the college kids, or most of anything. Just those moments when we stopped to BE, with each other.
I think thats how life will be: I wont remember college, but i wil remember bike rides at dusk, the smell of the air and the excitement of biking. Not the destination, but the significant parts of the journey.
And here i am in my room writing this after the night's walk. and here it is the next day, me reading this.
Time goes unabashed.