One day, he's going to know. He'll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parent's name. He'll know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school.
He'll know your eye color, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines, and your birthmarks. He'll know your favorite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, color, and song. He's going to know why you're awake at 3 am most nights, where you were when you realized you'd lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He's going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He's going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with parents. He'll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He's going to know about your fear of growing older. He'll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it's his favorite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He's going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, He'll know your restros order, how much sugar to put on your tea, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He's going to know how you feel without telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you're crying without shedding tears. He's going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He's going to know every single thing there is to know, and you what else? He is still going to love you.
Do you at any point believe that for my situation it wasn't sufficient. An exceptionally sad moment for me to express it.
I don't comprehend what else the desire would be separated from all these.
