Being known - being totally known - is as hypnotic a drug as any that exists. It pushes us on beyond fear, beyond tired, beyond our circumstances, beyond ourselves.
Once our defenses are down, once we are convinced that someone is not just trying to get something out of us or wants us to feel known for their own benefit, it's as if a ripple of flame suddenly rips up a river of gasoline with a sheet of fire. When we find those people to whom we can truly open our hearts (and in the journey of life, it turns out there are very few of those) there comes a moment when we can hardly contain our desire to be found out, to be completely understood.
If I think about it, God is no different. He often says in the Bible that He wants us to know Him - at least, as much as we can apprehend of Him. I wonder if it is not only His desire to share Himself with us (and how frustrating it must be to Him when we show such little interest in Him) but the fact that He knows how wonderful it is to be known. He knows me - do I revel in that, or has it merely become another fact I file away?
In a subthought, I wonder if that is where love goes to die? When suddenly there is no interest, there is only interactions that are business exchanges of the mind without the deeper exchanges of the heart. We pay in the coin of efficiency and quid pro quo and leave the meaningful deposits in the vaults of our core to slowly gather dust, never to be redeemed.