When a Simple Memory Steals Your Breath

I remember my wet skin,  my bare feet on the hardwood. I remember stepping out of the bathroom and hearing it play. There was a warm, dark yellow glow bouncing off the wooden walls, softly illuminating the darkness of that house.  You were sitting at the desk in your white t-shirt. I stood there, listening, staring at your back. My heart and lungs filled with so much love for you in that moment. 

And now I wonder, could I ever love like that again?