When people ask about you and I reply "He's good; We're good." I wonder if they know that what I really want to say is that yesterday we drove through a closed amusement park making plans of which rides we'll go on in the summer. Or that we drove home with the music so loud that it was as if it was trying to drown the thought of you out of my head but failing song after song. Or that we stopped at a McDonald's in a small town and gazed out the big windows together while we waited for our food, discussing where we each dream of living in the future, but why our dreams seem so unattainable. Or that our first date was to the place we first met at our elementary school playground, and you kissed me, relieving my childhood dream. Or that as we walked uptown we discussed how silly and hard it will be to teach a baby how to drink without back washing into a water bottle. Or that we fell so hard for each other that despite our constant words of "we're just friends" we ended up naked under the covers one night, twice. And that we made two our magic number. Or when we walked uptown and sat in a little coffee shop sipping on our latte and hot chocolate as you wrote about us in a dream journal on the counter. Or when we spent a day after school doing nothing but heating up cookies, dancing in your kitchen, and sliding across your wood floor in our socks, seeing who could go farther. I wonder if they know that every time they say your name I am reminded of how thankful I am to have you in my life. Or that every time I see you smile or laugh I am reminded of what being in heaven forever will really be like. I wonder if they know that I'm falling for you so hard, and so fast, and not holding myself back at all.