I ASK YOU

I’ll ask you this. Because I happen to do so much thinking of you.

Have you thought of me?

I miss you, I admit. Tremendously. But it doesn’t hurt as much anymore when I do. Instead I feel restless, like something’s...missing.

And, I wonder sometimes.

Well, okay. I wonder quite often—

…are you thinking about me?

Because I’ve slowly been doing less and less thinking of you.
Yet wonder how I can still miss you all the same.

So, I’ll ask you only when I’m wrapped snugly, within your arms, under your chin. When missing you is just a phrase. When we’re swaying slightly, to the flow of our breath. When your scent conquers every last bit of stubborn sense left in me.

I’ll ask you all of this and more, if you were to hold me again like our time together wasn’t running out. Like time didn’t matter.

Like nothing mattered, even though everything did, too much.
Like everything mattered, even if I didn't...at least, not enough.

I’d ask you.

If I believed we were to ever have such a bittersweet moment once more. Yes, I say I’d ask you this. But only because I know that moment when I can...will never again come to pass.

I lost my heart to you and watched...as you lost the very same heart I gave you.

And, I’d ask you why—except it no longer matters.

I don’t want to know that much.
I don’t need to know anymore.
And, I don’t care to know so urgently.

Why would I ask at all?

Why, indeed.