I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them and why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life that you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me about what the word ‘home’ means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bedroom you had when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or dance in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to give your snowman arms? Or would you leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice that the tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See I want to know more than what you do for a living. I want to know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other peoples wounds. I want to know about you.