• holding hands
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    “I love you,” you said.   I became short of breath.“What do you love?”I asked.    “I love you,”you said, smiling.   “What parts of me don’t you love?” I asked sheepishly.   “I love you,” you kept saying, passing your hand through my unkempt hair.   “You don’t love my unkempt hair,”I protested.   “I love ...