The question you never asked

Somewhere in your life there is a question you never put to somebody, and now cannot.

Leave it here. One or more sentences, no name, no account. It begins however you like; most begin What I never asked my mother was… or What I never asked my father was…

Confessions are not published: this is a wall of questions, not answers.

Leave the question you never asked

One or more sentences. No name, no email, no account. Every sentence is read before it appears, and the names of living people are taken out.

  1. What I never asked my mother was: Did you ever miss me after you decided to reject me the last 6 years of your life? Did you think of me when you lay dying on the carpet next to your bed? Did you forgive me for whatever you rejected me for, and loved me anyway when you died?
  2. What I never asked my father was: Have you ever been in jail? And if, what for? Did you had anything to do with the “hunting accident” that killed my grandfather? He who had left and abandoned you and my grandmother without any money or food in a foreign country?

Nothing you write here is stored with your name, your email or your IP address. Privacy