One day I might write about what people notice and what they don’t.
Might tell you about those who once made a point to read everything I wrote and how they stopped. Maybe it will include the reason or that which I imagine it to be.
Maybe it won’t.
Sometimes we are important to people and then things change and the importance we once held becomes a memory that is soon forgotten and or ignored.
Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe the quiet is due to them waiting for you to pick up the phone and reach out to them.
Maybe they would be ecstatic to receive your call and to see your interest in their life. Maybe it would be the one thing you could do that would lead to all you hoped and wished for.
Or maybe not.
Maybe you’d just be a shmata they used to dust off the shelves of memory or maybe not.
Maybe is one of those words that have so much joy and yet so much sorrow attached to it. All depends on how you use it…maybe,.
