I want to know you. Learn all of your little things. Please, open your heart. Let me in.

Tell me about how your family blames you for everything that goes wrong. Tell me about the time when you were five and you lost your shoe. Tell me about how sometimes late at night and early in the morning you lose yourself. Tell me how you’re scared of spiders and falling in love. Tell me how you love the water and music that is too loud. Tell me how you eat your sandwiches and make your coffee (one sugar or two?). Tell me how you miss the people who have gone away. Tell me about that time at the dentist you laughed so hard you almost swallowed the tooth they were yanking out. Tell me about your favorite flower. Tell me about the day you couldn’t stop crying. Tell me about the demons that haunt you, the ones that carved those lines into your skin.

Tell me about the ex who broke your heart and the one you’re still not over. Tell me about the time you went to the beach and stepped on a jellyfish. Tell me all of the hilarious memories you made with your friends. Tell me what you think about. Tell me how you learned to ride a bike, trembling and fearful. Tell me about your first kiss. Tell me about your favorite little café and how you get the same drink every time. Tell me how much you hate spinach. Tell me about the song that gives you goosebumps. Tell me about the worst concert you’ve been to (you still loved every moment, didn’t you?).

Tell me about the day your grandpa died. Tell me how you’re still not used to him being gone. Tell me how much you love pizza and hate sushi. Tell me about how you chew your fingernails and shake your leg.

Tell me how your heart beats faster when you walk into a room of people you don’t know. Tell me how it beats faster when you hear my name. Tell me about your favorite book and how it makes you shake with anger and cry from joy. Tell me about every little part of you. Tell me the words you’re scared to say. Tell me you love me. Tell me.

Tell me everything.