I wish you knew the right way to tickle me that was just borderline sensual enough that it would lead to sex. I wish you knew how to rub my back in a way that would get you on my good side when you were pissing me off.
I wish you knew how hard it is for me to sit through a game of Risk and I know you love playing that game but I’m the least competitive person you’ll ever meet so this game is stupid and I’m sorry. Can we just go read all the questions and answers from the Trivial Pursuit cards and call it a day?
I wish you knew how much I despise Disneyland and rabid fan-bases and the idea of going skiing and anything lemon flavored. And I wish you teased me about those things. And a million more things. Mercilessly.
I wish you knew my coffee order well enough to know that I actually am going to need a whole handful of Splendas, not the three that I asked for because I thought it was socially appropriate.
I wish knew to call me by the shortened version of my name, the way only those closest to me do. And how if you do, you’ve got me. Like got me. Heart melted.
I wish you knew that the only time I let out any anger is in the car, the birthplace of most of my made-up cuss words.
I wish you noticed how my voice raises about 4 octaves when I speak to my dad or my stepmom on the phone. I also wish you wanted to comfort me before and after these calls. Soothe my nerves. Not during. During, I’ll be pacing back and forth. You know that though. Of course you do.
You would know that I’ll drop everything and fly cross-country if my best friend even gets her feelings hurt by a boy because it’s just money and being there for my family (she’s family) is the most important thing in the world.
I wish you knew how John Denver songs, and seeing the stars, and anything from the 60s makes me want to weep. But I also hope you would know that I would never weep in front of you. I’ve been taught to suck it up. But you would know that.
I wish knew how much I love Taylor Swift and One Direction and baths and romance novels and interspecies animal friends and buying clothes, even though most people think I don’t have a girly bone in my body. You would know better.
And you would know that the sleepier I get, the more girly I get. Seriously, when I’m waking up from a nap, it’s like I’m a real girl! You would probably devour those moments. You’d be surprised that other people don’t see those vulnerabilities more. You see them so clearly. No matter how deep I try to cover them up.
I wish you knew all those things. And a million more. Because I want to know a million and one things about you. And I’m learning. Like the way you burned your hand and can’t feel with those fingers. And the fact that your cousin taught you to ride a bike but didn’t make you wear a helmet and you crashed and that’s why you hate bike riding. And your extreme love for your tiny dogs which I think is really weird frankly, because small dogs are just cats, to paraphrase Ron Swanson. And how you worked on a pickle farm in Canada and who even knew those existed? And that you love baseball in theory but don’t watch it, which I think means you shouldn’t get to defend it, but I guess you’re being principled.
And I want to keep learning about you, and I want to keep teaching you about me. I wish we knew these things intrinsically, but I also wish I never stop learning about you.