A Jar Full Of Questions

She had a jar full of questions she'd never dared to ask. Unanswered they laid side by side. Colourful little pieces of paper with words written on them which had never been uttered. Question marks floating around, never getting the chance to become full stops. Most of the questions were about heartbreak, others just pure curiousity and a few were about pain and anger, but those were the biggest ones. "Do you still think about me?" was folded up and had only looked at itself for months now. It rubbed up against: "Would you like to see me again?" which was a newbie in the crowd. "Did I hurt you when I said those things at that family gathering way back when?" had been in there for almost decades. "Why do you need to punish me for loving you?" and "Can you love someone but not like them?" laid heavy in the bottom of the jar. The lighter ones such as: "How do you make your hair look so healthy?" or "Where did you get those boots?" swam around the top of the jar. It was silly they were in there, but they were. One or two green ones said "Can I pet your dog?" and they itched and twitched their way around the jar annoying all the other questions who were trying to sleep and become forgotten. There were the questions she'd asked herself: "Why can't you be content like everybody else?" or "Why can't you slow down?" and they always seemed to try and jump out of the jar and into her face when she opened it and put in a new one. She hoped one day she'd build up the courage to stop putting more questions in and letting more out. Today was not the day, she knew that. But she wished that time would aid her in this as she put yet another questions into the jar.