You.

You? Yes, you. Sitting there like no one ever wants to get to know you. But I do. I always have. If only you had caught a glimpse of me, looking at you from the corner of my eye, sipping my coffee. I want to know you because it matters to me. I want to know you because I have seen you create magic. Yes, I want to know you because your eyes have a whirlwind of emotions and your mind, a cacophony of thoughts.

I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me about every single person you have ever fallen in love with. I want you to tell me about every single person who has ever fallen in love with you. Tell me why you fell in love with them and then I want you to tell me why they loved you. Tell me about your first love and tell me how the both of you grew up together. Tell me about the days you didn't think you’d live through and then tell me about what keeps you alive from the inside when everything else falls away.

Explain to me the meaning of “home” and do it in a way that I know how you spent your summer afternoons when you were 10. Tell me about the first time you understood the word “hate” and if you still regret it and then tell me what you know of “regret” and if it still nags at you like a dying memory.

Tell me what makes the corners of your mouth twist in a silly grin and I’ll tell you that you should do that more often. Tell me what makes you throwback your head and laugh like a little child, careless and unaware of the world and I’ll tell you that the simplest of things have magic in them, like when motes of dust in a shaft of light steal your attention away from the world.

Then I want you to describe “anger” to me. If you think that it is a simple emotion or a timid beating of the fragile heart. After you word this to me, I want to hold your hand and take a walk through the farthest corners of your mind, where even you are afraid to go. I want you to tell me about what breaks you and what you think makes you a dark person and I will pull out a blanket and we can watch the stars together.

I want you to tell me if you lie awake at night thinking about your first name. I want you to tell me if you wonder of the joy your mother and father had when they first said it. I want you to tell me about the summers of your life. I want you to tell me about the summer you learnt to swim, the summer where you learnt to ride a bike, the summer where you learnt to drive a car, the summer that you learnt to love your parents, the summer you learnt how to be alone, the summer where your broken heart learnt to wish on stars…. I want you to tell me if you learn in between the moments in your life and if they make you who you are today.

I want you to tell me how cruel you can be, but I also want you to tell me how you give more than you take. I want to know if you bleed through other peoples wounds. I want to know if you will risk everything for love, for dreams, for the sheer adventure of being alive. I want to know if you ache to meet what your heart yearns for. I want to you to tell me about who I have fallen for. I want to tell me about you.

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