There is one question I’m dying to ask.
One question who’s answer would say it all.
But I cannot, will not, ask you.
Because a “no” would devastate me, even more than I’ve already been. And even so, I probably would not accept it. My heart would refuse it as absolute truth.
A “yes” would anger and frustrate me. It would also fuel the last tiny ember of lingering hope that resists even the most deadly poison. It would make me want to fight. And wait.
I’m not sure which answer would be worse.
So this question will stay buried in my heart, not to be granted life by forming on my tongue and passing through my lips.
Because the last time I asked it of you, your reply haunted me, as it still does.
Only you know your heart now. You could lie to everyone, including me and no one would be wise to it.
This question that must not be asked lays between us, a silent barrier that should not be crossed. One that we are both trying to move away from, in the ways that we know how.
I’m not sure how this plays out, but I am tired of anticipating and worrying. I respect your decision and your desire to move on, just as you will respect mine.
I may not agree and I most definitely do not like it, but I will get through it, just as I’ve been doing.
Therefore, I will keep my wonderings to myself, if only to protect what little defense I have against you.
I am, after all, a wolf.
Self-preservation is in my nature.
For the record, my answer will always be yes.
I wish I could lie.
Especially to myself.