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, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why your awake at 5am. He’s going to know and love the parts of you that you hate, and the way you get confused. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your dream wedding, and He’ll know your strengths and weaknesses, laziness, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and 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 favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you have already picked out wedding flowers, baby names and tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaids dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to get annoyed, and then accept that you leave your clothes everywhere. He’ll know your McDonald’s order off by heart, how many sugars to put in your coffee/tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without telling him, and that your 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 know what else? He is still going to love you.