At least at the office there was chatter, jokes. Now? Silence.
So loud I leave the telly on, just to hear a voice.
Sometimes I ask myself: if I just vanished, would anyone notice? Not my kids, not my ex, not the neighbour from the third floor. The thought chokes me with tears.
But then I get up.
Make tea. Tell myself: *Maybe tomorrow. Maybe someone will remember.
Call. Text.* Maybe I still matter to someone.
As long as hope’s alive, so am I.
