Because I want…

…to know.

I want to ask.

But asking seems let me know more things that I feel a need to ask about

….and it drives me mad.

Usually left feeling furious and volatile. So I’ll stop and I’ve stopped asking. I don’t even want to wonder anymore. What’s the point when each inadequate answer just leaves me with more questions twiddling their nonexistent thumbs back and forth, well aware that they’ll never be truly answered?

What’s the point when it literally feels like a waste of my energy?

What’s the point when it doesn’t seem to fix or heal anything for me?

Or for you.

What’s the point when it’s just the equivalent of dropping a match into a container of gasoline?