One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents’ names. He’ll know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, and how many pets you’ve had. He’ll know your eye color, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines, and your birth marks. 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 5am 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 dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. 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 how you feel without you telling him, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. 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 know what else? He’s still going to love you.