Questions

(Pre-written) Hundreds of questions about life and death, but I linger on these the most.

Do I have a question?
What is it, that makes the world turn? A man can live alone, working for himself, thriving for what he alone wants to become.

I have a question.
What's this? Why do I long for a presence? This is the first time I felt this. Do I need it? Do I want it? Why does it feel good, why does it hurt?

I had a question.
Happiness, bliss. Love, affection. It completed me. I never knew I was incomplete until she came along. I never knew what I was missing until I kissed her lips.

Love was the question.
I am incomplete. Destroyed, lost. What's left to live for in this world? What is art without her, if all my art was for her? When I thought this man was complete without it,
Now that he had a taste, he longs for more.

Author's Note

This is in parallel with "Answers"