she never cried in front of him, but he always knew when she had.

she never told him how she felt, but he knew how she hurt.

she never showed him what it was like, but he understood anyway.

she never spoke it out loud, but he heard it loud and clear.


because he didn't need to see it to realize all her dreams; he didn't need to be told, to know what she wanted. there never was a need for speech; he could feel her every sorrow. she cried alone in the dark at night, but morning brought his light.

and she wondered, at times, how he was always there to say the right words at just the right time. how could he always be there for her, when she was hardly there for him? his was unconditional, hers often preoccupied.

so she did question how he was always there to pick her up, how he knew what she was thinking, how he understood what she felt, how he could always cheer her up, make her laugh.

but the answer was simple. and all she had to do was ask.

he knew her.

he knows her.


because he loved her first, before she first loved him.