Tell me everything that makes you, you.

I want to ask not just what your favourite colour is but I need to know which colour reminds you of warmth and joy when your days are downcast.

I so want to ask if you’d want to share vanilla ice cream with me every Friday night for the rest of our lives.

I want to know what you’re thinking when the wall is staring back at you unmoving, but I’d always want to know what brought about that tiny crinkle in your eye.

I want to know why that song moves you, makes you sing along so passionately and definitely the ones that make your smile brittle and some sad.

I want to know what you did those long summer nights when the crickets called and flies circled around the candle-lit rooms, ghost stories or the bygone tales of the old house.

I want to know, surely do, if you felt like you were the wind when you cycled down those streets or jumped and made a mess when the puddles surely filled up after the rains.

I wanted to ask you though, all those times we shared a laugh, a toast, a mile, if you ever dreamt of me just like I dream about you ever since that winter night we first met.