I was not asking for love.
I was not asking for you to give me your hand and to never let me go.
I was not asking for your time.
I was not asking for you in my life.
I was not asking for answers.
I was not even asking questions.
I was not asking for more than what you could or can give.
I was not asking for money, lust, or anything material.
I was asking for the old you to come back.
I was asking for your voice, the one which said all the true things.
I was asking for you.
I was only asking it for me, and for you, and for the both of us.
I was asking for some type of comfort, the one you gave me through these last months.
I was merely asking to myself 'where are you? who is this guy? what happened to that boy so charming, so friendly, so understanding and caring?'
I was asking why the hell when I needed to hear your voice to somehow calm me down, you gave me no response?
I was asking for you, for my good and bad, whether I like it or not.
I was asking for you. Only you. The one I knew. The one who knew me.
by Raquel Aquino