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.