Work Text:
To be loved is to be known,
Like in the way that you won't tell me the time,
Because you know I worry,
Like in the way you tell me about things that will happen because you don't want to keep it from me,
But the time you keep secret since you know i would rush if it meant you would be allowed to relax beforehand.
You tell me about the birthday, that it'll be on the weekend, in the evening on a day where we planned something,
But you didn't tell me the time because you knew what I would do.
Overplan, rush, and set myself aside because in my mind, time knowing someone is more important than established plans or my own selfish desires.
You told me that you wanted me to enjoy myself, to not worry about it because you'd handle it,
And even though I will, not knowing the time allows me the day to relax, to decompress and spend time with you.
To be loved is to be known in all the small ways,
Like the type of drink I get at the movies,
Or the candy I like,
Or the snacks i'm not allowed to have that you get me anyways.
It's scary, to be known.
To have someone see so clearly into myself that which sometimes, I can't even see myself.
To be loved is to be understood, listened to, and loved,
And even if it seems like all of those things are just the same,
The right person will know they are not.