That Time I Remembered the Wrong Memory

So, yesterday Guy and I are making lunch. I'm feeling all sentimental and in true me fashion I bring up the past. I love talking about our relationship with Guy.

Anyways, I say, "Guy, do you remember the first you said you loved me?"
Guy responds, "Yes, I do."

I'm feeling gushy like:

Dreamy-eyed I say, "We were sitting on your parents couch, the one by the piano."




Guy's like:
"No .... It happened in my truck. I was dropping you off at the dorm. We were talking and I told you I loved you."





Then I'm like:
"No no no no no. This is a memory I have cherished for ages. We were at your parents house. Sitting on the couch. Looking deeply into each others eyes ....





Then I think, becoming uncertain of my memory:
"....... Wait - then what memory am I even remembering?!"





Guy just looks at me for a while and then says:
 "... Do you even remember my name?"




And all those posts about our relationship are justified. Apparently I have the memory of my 87 year old grandmother.