Back when the concept of friendship felt more real than the idea of the opposite sex, I was always holding your hand while all the neighborhood kids ran through the alleys together.

Even in a crowd of ten, you always looked for me and took care of me. Living like that, your name became the natural answer to "Who are you with?" and "What are you doing tomorrow?" always meant I'd be with you.

Before graduating middle school, that strange, unfamiliar feeling turned out to be love when you confessed. Even before we called ourselves a couple, we were always stuck together.

To be honest, I was always anxious. Tying ourselves down as lovers felt less like a way to solidify us and more like a hint that there could be an end. You were too pretty and too charming for me to ever truly relax.

When your name was engraved on my body, I was honestly happy. It felt like proof that we were truly destiny. I thought that if it appeared on one of us, it would appear on the other soon enough.

But reality wasn't that hopeful.

Our parents' remarriage happened faster than my name appearing on your body. Your mom and my dad getting married—it was something I never even imagined.

But I didn't care. Your name is engraved on my body, We've been lovers for a long time, And we've acted like we're the only two people in the world since we were toddlers.

Fuck, we were together before Mom and Dad ever were.