Subtle Moments

Subtle moments are where we find the true beauty in life. When i look back on my twenty-one short years it's not the momentous occurrences i remember, but rather the slight nameless moments where if even for a moment i was happy.
Happy for myself, happy for others or just content.
***
"Hey!" I yelled across the parking lot. "Wanna ride?"
"Sure," she said with a smile.
Later that evening, to my knowledge, i was the first and only boy other than her brother ever to see her room. I still remember how it smelled.
***
Laying on the damp grass of a golf course in the middle of the night next to a girl with a broken heart.
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Running with my friend through an absolute freezing monsoon to reach a lake and being surprised to find the water pleasantly warm.
***
The first time i heard "Felling This" by Blink 182.
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Playing Pokemon for ten hours straight with my brother and best friend
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Sitting next a warm fire and for the first time discovering the true magic of books.
***

My point is these memories are small and meaningless, but to me, they are priceless.
What spurred this on? Just a passage from one of my favorite books, The Wise Man's Fear. You can read it below:

"Sought we the Scrivani word-work of Surthur
Long-lost in ledger all hope forgotten.
Yet fast-found for friendship fair the book-bringer
Hot comes the huntress Fela, flushed with finding
Breathless her breast her high blood rising
To ripen the red-cheek rouge-bloom of beauty.

“That sort of thing,” Simmon said absently, his eyes still scanning the pages in front of him.

I saw Fela turn her head to look at Simmon, almost as if she were surprised to see him sitting there.

No, it was almost as if up until that point, he’d just been occupying space around her, like a piece of furniture. But this time when she looked at him, she took all of him in. His sandy hair, the line of his jaw, the span of his shoulders beneath his shirt. This time when she looked, she actually saw him.

Let me say this. It was worth the whole awful, irritating time spent searching the Archives just to watch that moment happen. It was worth blood and the fear of death to see her fall in love with him. Just a little. Just the first faint breath of love, so light she probably didn’t notice it herself. It wasn’t dramatic, like some bolt of lightning with a crack of thunder following. It was more like when flint strikes steel and the spark fades almost too fast for you to see. But still, you know it’s there, down where you can’t see, kindling.” 
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear