Dare to Dream

I had a dream about you, maybe a month ago. I never told you...

We were renting a room at a cozy bed & breakfast in a small, snowy town far away from here, away from our complicated lives. After you finished writing the check for our room, the owners asked us to sign their guestbook, and we agreed. When we got to the table where the book laid open, you ushered me forward to sign our names. I looked at you questioningly, and you whispered, "Go ahead." I wasn't really sure what you wanted me to write, so I mimicked the entries of the couples preceding us: Mr. and Mrs. [John Smith], with my hand shaking the whole time. The two of us stepped back to admire my handiwork, and the enormity of the assumption that we were married that this entry would cause made my heart beat faster. "You're pretty good at that," you breathed into the curve of my neck. We were fooling them all, and I was surprised at how easily we slipped into this charade of husband and wife. I only wondered how long it would last.