“I know you better than you know yourself,” he says, with his hair in his eyes and head in the air.
he’ll tell you all your favorite colors; how teal makes you feel soft and warm and how yellow makes you want to run. he’ll tell you how you love the sky most when it’s anything but blue, when it’s all pink and orange and streaks of white.
you’re 17 and he knows all your thoughts; sings along to all the songs you love even though he hates them. he knows what you want to say before you think it; answers people when they ask how you are. stares right into your eyes and says he gets lost in them; he’ll never find his way back out.
you’re 18 and he shows up at your door when you haven’t eaten for a week.
you sit in silence and it feels like home. he stays past midnight, watches movies and watches you falling asleep on the couch next to him. people think you’re in love and you laugh it off. You’ll fall asleep on his chest, listening to his heart beat fast.
you’re 19 and you fall asleep to his breath; waves crashing into shores on the other side of the phone. it’s 3am and there’s no one you’d rather talk to. it’s 3am and you love him. except you don’t.
you’re 20 and you walk past each other like playing a game of hide and seek where no one wants to find the other. he talks like someone else now, carries someone else’s words in his throat when he speaks. he doesn’t ask how you are; his eyes don’t even meet yours now. you love him, but you don’t. you tried to fall in love with each other and that’s all it took to tear you apart; ripping you right at the edges.
he knew you better than you knew yourself, but you don’t even recognize him anymore.