I don’t want to know you naked the most.
I want to know you in your pajamas drinking warm beer in our tiny twin bed, while you wear your hoodie from the college you went to but hated, but you still wear it because it is the most comfortable thing you ever bought on a rainy day when you had nothing else to wear and your classes were still a twenty minute walk away. But now you’re wearing it and smiling because of memories you’re telling me that I wasn’t in, but after tonight I’ll know them as if I were. We’ll drink the warm beer until we run out, or until one of us falls asleep after we keep kissing each other in between each story. They come like commas, or periods, or chapter marks.
I want to know you in your favorite dress, at an event with all of our friends dressed up for an unusual celebration where everyone takes pictures and for once we are happy with how we look, so we volunteer for them. We keep our cell phones tucked away unless we want to grab a photo of our own, our cheeks hurt from smiling too much. On the ride home you pick out the music, something soft and warm that eases you into your nap.
I want to know you in your jeans and tear soaked t shirt while you are crying because your stress is too high and you can’t manage anything in your life.
I want to know you as something you allow to cling on and not something you kick out because you control it.
I want to know you in my baggy long sleeve and your comfy underwear while you are wiping your snot on the cuffs. We pull the sheets on until you’re too hot and then we throw them off. You let me hold you when you’re cold and push me away annoyed yet slightly laughing when you feel overwhelmed.
I want to know you in your hospital gown when we are in the ER because you’re afraid you have cancer. Demanding you squeeze my hand as tightly as you can and that we can get through it together.
I want to know you in your favorite dress laying in your casket. I want to know you got to pass first, that you won’t have to worry about being alone in our house with the animals. I know it will hurt when I get back home, but at least it will only hurt me, and not you.
I want to have known you.
not really but i’m about to hop on the dads one so meet me there.