This world is filled with questions.
We ask each other, when we first meet: What do you do for a living? Who’s your favorite author? What’s your favorite color?
And we’re left still, with the emptiness of “I don’t know you”.
Because.
We forget to ask the questions that really mean something, and we forget how to speak in intimate “I know you” ways of brothers and sisters and friends forever. We forget to ask about why you turned your eyes away, or what do you dream of? Not, where do you want to go in life? But what do you dream.
And.
We forget to remember.
The details, just the little details,
and eventually we forget the outline of a person we never quite managed to fill in all the way, leaving scattered bits and pieces of pigment and color across a canvas that was never finished.
And.
We forget how to answer. We often don’t know what to say when the right question comes along, and that right moment passes us by, and we find ourselves a little farther apart instead of a little closer together.
So we are left with words caught between our teeth or in the grey folds behind our eyes and we are left alone with our “What Ifs?”.
Until.
We find some reason, or some moment, some feeling, some cataclysmic coming of events/occurrences/situations that finally let us say: This, this is what I need you to hear/say/understand.
This.
Just this.
