Maybe You Might

I don't really know what I'd say to you if I could.

Maybe I would talk about work. Probably. It's kind of my main source of happening these days. Maybe I'd tell you I finally had a full staff and that I saw real promise in my store.

Maybe I'd tell you that I went out with some friends from work last weekend and that I had a great time with my vodka tonics. Maybe I'd tell you that I ordered those (with just a splash of cran) because they reminded me of Mom somehow.

Maybe I'd tell you I was comfortable in my own skin for once. Maybe I'd tell you that the other day I didn't cringe when I walked by a reflective surface and that it seemed like I was laughing more.

Maybe I would try to tell you. But you wouldn't care.

You would probably let me tell you a few things about work. You might make a joke about dog shit or something and then the conversation would turn to you. It always does. You might say how much money you made on your last job and I'd 'mm-hm' to placate you.

Maybe I'd tell you what placate meant.

You might tell me that you were alone tonight and that you were interested in getting together. And you might start making comments about time we used to spend together and you might start saying things that used to work.

Maybe I'd allow myself to think about it for a  half a second.

You might say that things were bad at home and that you needed me. Maybe I'd believe you. You would probably tell me all the plans about changes you weren't going to make and maybe I'd feel sorry for you.

I don't really know what I'd say to you if I could.

Maybe I won't call.