To think and to question

I’m a thinker and that makes me a questioner.

Sometimes I just sit and think of the questions I want to ask people. And by people, I mean you.

I have so many questions to ask you because you’re all I think about.

What’s your favourite food? What made you who you are? Do you have regrets?

Do you regret not loving me?

Why don’t you love me like I love you?

I’m not that girl. That girl that gets hung up on the guy. But here I am, months later, still thinking about you.

I close my eyes and I see us lying in your bed, your arms around me as we just talk. It’s weird because we never actually did that.

I want to hug you. Kiss you. Make love to you. But mostly I just want to make that image a reality. To just sit and talk like we have no where else to go. Like this is what we were made to do. We always did have such a good banter.

It’s not like you’re not around. I’m lucky for that. You’re still in my life… just not the way I want you to be.

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