I sometimes ask myself, "would I have prayed a different prayer, if I had known what your actions were to be?"
Would I wish for a worse outcome, for that early morning search party?
Would I have wished for a kidnapping, to avoid the emotional one you were to cause us?
I don't know, I don't answer myself, for fear of what that answer may be.
I feel like a fool, for being worried about you those few hours. I feel like a victim for not knowing that night to not let my eyelids close, but to keep them sternly on you. I feel like an idiot, for allowing myself to fall for this scheme. To worry for you.
If I knew the pain to come, would I have gone back to bed?
I've recently started asking myself, "If I knew the incoming pain, would I have gotten out of the car?" Would I have said more than I love you? Could I have said more than I love you?
I don't know. I don't answer myself, for I fear I don't know. And I never will.
I sometimes ask myself, "how am I supposed to go on?" I don't know. Maybe the hope of seeing her again is the answer.