Back when I thought I was in love with you I wanted to know everything about you. Yeats spread his dreams before his love’s feet; I wanted you to spread your secrets before mine, to tread softly or trample upon, save you or destroy you. I wanted power; to posess you completely by knowing what you’d never let anyone else know, to use your secrets to tie you to me forever.
When I only thought I was in love I wanted all your secrets. But I never wanted to give you mine.