No one knows her the way I do!

 

You're right, my love. No one knows me the way you do.

 

You know me as strong. As a storm that is just becoming. As an open wound in the process of developing scar tissue. As a woman who has found the courage to stand tall and firm. As a girl who has lost the fear of making choices.

 

No, no one knows me the way you do.

 

You've seen me laugh at the beach and yell at the stars. You've seen me toss stones while saying all my heaviest sins. You've heard secrets I've only said to the wind. And you... you're the only one to read my poems, from when I was a kid.

 

Nope, surely no one knows me the way you do.

 

You've heard me rant and complain about how my parents aren't good enough. About how my childhood wasn't carefree enough. About how my studies weren't interesting enough. About how my friends weren't friendly enough. About how my life wasn't mine enough.

 

No, definitely no one knows me like you do.

 

However, do not mistake that for knowing who I am. For knowing what I am. For knowing who I've defined myself to be.

 

Because you have not seen me at 2am with a razor to my wrist. You have not seen me at 10pm mourning a lover I never had. You have not seen me laugh at my favorite comedy show. You have not seen me smile while baking in a kitchen I've had all to myself. You have not seen my satisfied smile when I've finished a puzzle. You have not seen me when I fell down so hard I needed stitches. You have not seen me in my favorite dress at a party. You have not seen me with my head down in a crowd, avoiding any attention. You have not seen me in love. 

 

No.

 

No one knows me like you do.

 

You've known the girl after. After what happened. After my first love. After my first suicide attempt. After, my first attempt at life.

 

No, no one knows me like you do.

 

But do not presume you know me better than I know myself.