We'd been together for a year and had finally moved in. He was a perfect guy, a college athlete and graduated college with a 4.0. Me, I was pretty normal, except that I got the guy that every other girl wanted.

We were happy, genuinely and truly happy. We spent every free moment together, and when we were out it was as if no one else existed. Just us. We'd both been through trauma, and we were the only ones who understood each other.

It was a lazy Saturday, one of those days you hang out at home in your pajamas, bake cookies, and fall asleep in each other's arms watching movies while it rains.

We watched action movies and sad romantic movies too. We watched the Notebook, and he'd never admit it, but I saw those tears roll down his cheeks at the end.

After napping together, I woke up to him staring out the window. He looked deep in thought, and I saw pain in his eyes. He looked heartbroken. Maybe he was thinking about his trauma, I don't know. But generally when trauma came up he'd tell me, and often even wake me up when he needed to talk about his pain.

Despite his trauma, he never seemed to cry about anything. It wasn't that he suppressed anything, he just simply hadn't experienced anything sad in the year we were together. Both of our lives were good.

He had his elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped together, deep in thought. I sat up and gently rubbed his back. He always seemed to open up when I did that. The pain on his face seemed to etch deeper.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

He sighed and turned to me, crossing his legs and fiddling with his fingers. I grabbed his hands and began rubbing circles with my thumbs. His eyes grew darker and his brows creased as he spoke. "I guess I'm sad, and I feel like my past is affecting our present."

"In what way?" He looked up at me, with the deepest sadness I'd ever known. "C'mon," I told him. I got up and guided him into our room. We turned off the tv and sat on our crimson bed.

"I'm afraid." He spoke, barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid of the future."

I sat myself in his lap and held his hands while he spoke. "I'm so happy with you. I've never been happier, I've never been with someone who completes me like you. We met when we were 15 and 16, and even though we lost our friendship, by some crazy miracle we found each other again. You were the first person I ever loved and I spent years 10 years missing you."

He looked up at me, eyes shining as he continued. "Our life together has been like a fever dream. You're everything to me and I want the rest of my life with you."

He looked down and sighed. I braced myself, was he breaking up with me?

He looked up at me, blue eyes even more shimmery. "I'm afraid. I'm the reason my sister is dead. My father left me, my mother moved away, everyone I've ever loved just goes away. I'm so afraid of losing you."

Tears sprung to his eyes as I rubbed his shoulders as he continued. "For the first time in my life I'm finally happy. Truly happy. We're helping each other get through our traumas and, I don't know, you're just my other half. You're my person, my soulmate, and I'm so afraid I'm gonna drive you away or hurt you or you'll die or you'll leave me or you'll stop loving me."

I put my hands on his cheeks and rubbed them. "I'm not going anywhere, you're my person and I want forever with you." I reassured him. "I'm not going to die, I'm not going to leave you. And absolutely nothing you do could make me leave you I spent 10 years missing you and waiting for you. I'm not losing you again."

He looked at me, tears shining in his eyes. "You mean that?" I nodded. He sighed and it was like all the tension released in his body. He leaned in and we kissed. I paused for a brief moment and whispered "I love you."

As we kissed I felt our cheeks become wet. I opened my eyes to see his eyes closed and tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes. His lips trembled as I pulled away. There were a few tear tracks on each cheek. He opened his eyes and held eye contact with me as he leaned his forehead on mine and sighed, wrapping his arms around me.

Tears shined in his eyes, but stopped falling. He whispered that he loved me, and I told him I loved him back.

Those three words seemed to hold power. A fresh wave of tears streamed down his cheeks as he held eye contact with me. One tear slipped out of the inner corner of his eye, another from the outer corner of the other eye. Tears fell from the middle of both eyes all the way down to his chin.

He spoke, "I've never cried in front of anyone before." He smiled at me as another wave of tears fell. His voice showed no signs of the tears on his cheeks. "But I love you so much, and I want you to know every part of me. The good and the bad. I want to be close to you. I want to share my tears with you."

As he spoke, it was like I forgot to breathe. It seems his tears also forgot to fall. He slowly shut his eyes, and more tears slowly fell. "Every tear I cry is a reflection of my love for you, and if I could, I'd cry an ocean for you. Just to prove how deep my pain goes, how deeply I fear losing you, and how utterly deep my love for you is."

His lips trembled and he inhaled a shaky breath. His face was still, the only movement between us were the tears still slowly slipping down his cheeks. "You hold power over me, and I need you. I love you. I'm afraid of losing you, I think I'll always be."

His tears slowed again, but held their places in his blue eyes. "I need you to tell me you love me."

He never felt that love as a child, and hearing it now allowed the tears to flow. He needed that release. "I love you," I told him. Fresh tears fell. I needed to push him to let it all out. "I love you, I love you, I love you." More tears fell faster. His face began to morph from stoic to pain-ridden.

He began to sob. "Thank you," he cried. "I needed this." He pulled me into him and cried into my neck, stomach convulsing as he sobbed quietly.

After some time, he pulled away, tears still flowing. I grabbed a tissue and handed it to him. He cried as he dried his cheeks, tears flowing faster than he could wipe them. Tears  would fall before he could dry the other cheek. He cried gently, and so beautifully. After about two hours, he'd used all the tissues, and his tears had finally faded.

"Thank you," he said. "I needed that. I'm happy with you, but I carry so much pain. But I want to share it with you. All of it." He promised he would and asked me to do the same in turn.

As we continued with our lives, I found that he'd break down about once a month, spending almost 3 hours each time just sharing his pain and tears with me. As for myself, I actually rarely cried.

5 years into our relationship, I realized one day that he hadn't cried in a very long time. Did he shut me out, did he not love me anymore?

I was embarrassed, but I had to ask him. "It's going to sound weird, but you haven't cried to me in a while. I don't wanna sound like I want you to cry, but honestly I enjoyed the intimacy it gave us and how open you were with me."

He turned to me and held me in his arms. "Do you remember the first time? I cried for hours because I was afraid of losing you. I'm not afraid anymore. I love you, I only hope you don't carry the same pain I carried then."

I nodded and squeezed him and pulled away. "Hey, you okay?" He asked. I nodded. He pulled me in his lap. "I'd know that pain anywhere. Talk to me."

"I'm not afraid of losing you, I'm just afraid of drowning. You healed from your trauma and it feels like I'm still here." I cried in his arms, soaking his shoulder.

I felt tears on my shoulder, I presumed he was crying with me and pulled away. He smiled, "I guess I am healed, but every tear you cry and every pain you feel I feel with you. So let me in, let me carry your burden, okay?"

I nodded as I cried.