"Let's go for a walk," you say.
I reply with a nonchalant "sure",
masking my feelings of disbelieving glee.
We wander in the quiet, starry night,
exchanging our hopes and dreams and fears.
You take my hand -
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I ask.
I don't remember what you said,
but it was the right answer, that I know.

Sometime in the future,
we find ourselves amongst family and friends.
It's not a tacky wedding ceremony
(because we both hate those things)
but it's meaningful, regardless.
You take my hand -
"Let's get out of here," I suggest.
I don't remember where we went,
but it was perfect, that I know.

"Hey, you!"
I snap out of my reverie - we're strangers again.
"I, uh, brought those books you wanted."
I mumble a quiet "thank you",
and you scurry off on your merry way
as I grin to myself,
knowing it will never happen.