• Build an IKEA bookshelf together.
• Have him rock me in his gigantic arms like I’m a tiny, sexy baby.
• Co-own a small plot in a community garden where we grow basil, mint, cucumbers, tomatoes, and some Swiss chard.
• Sketch him posing as Rodin’s “The Thinker”.
• Ride him like he’s a large horse. In a non-sexual way.
• Peruse real-estate listings together.
• Drape myself across his expansive shoulders and have him carry me around like a sheep to slaughter.
• Dangle a large swath of fabric across his bicep and practice aerial yoga.
• Start a lengthy email thread where we send each other TripAdvisor links for our upcoming trip to Portugal together.
• Do a role-play where I’m an intrepid mountaineer and he’s K2 because it’s less commercial and more technically difficult than Everest and also uh oh, watch out, there’s a storm coming.
• Another role-play where I’m Captain Sully Sullenberger and he’s U.S. Airways Flight 1549 and we just took off from LaGuardia.
• Listen to him read me sad poetry he composed in a tattered Moleskine.
• Naked trust falls.
• Transcribe the entirety of War and Peace on his left pec and have room to spare.
• Do a couch to 5K with him.
• Go to the mall and watch him try on a series of progressively tighter cashmere sweaters.
• Partner stretch each other’s hamstrings.
• Find a tiny, injured baby bird that he cradles gently in his enormous, skillet-sized hands and help him nurse it back to life.
• That thing where I lay on his big, broad back while he does push ups.
• Have him tell me about his day with no expectation of a response from me while I lay with my eyes closed on a bed in Paris, where he flew us First Class.
• Smooch.
