question marks

I keep asking myself questions like

When?

When to everything, every promise we never made.

When will your name light up my phone, email, the corners of my lips in anything but a whisper?

Or maybe better, when will your name cease to light up my senses?

The thing is, I never asked you for much.

Not out loud, at least.

I wanted little more than romance at first, 

something to smile about as sleep reached for me, 

something to sigh across pillowcases to my friends.

When you said that word, friend, I wanted less, 

downsized hopes and dreams. 

Placed fantasies in neat boxes, alphabetized.

I wanted one thing, basically. 

For you to keep being that simple thing. A friend.

Which you did not.

That’s when questions like

When?

Get easily replaced by

Why?

And though the answers to

When?

 are usually seen as linear, 

Why?

is a universe of uncertainty and I can’t quite find the right solar system without you.

Without you?

A last question that isn’t really a question.

What were we really but fleeting pen pals, 

two people who emailed for a month?

You're a memory with no answers.

But, hey, I like question marks.