Would You Even Notice
Would you even notice if I’m gone—
not the meeting invites or the empty chair,
but the quiet things
that used to just… work?
The problems handled before they surfaced,
the details no one had to chase down,
the steady hand you never questioned—
because it never gave you a reason to.
Would you realize, after a while,
that something feels just slightly off?
Not broken—
just not as sharp, not as clear,
not as… easy.
Or would it all blend in—
another name, another exit,
another line item quietly disappearing
into the background noise?
I wonder if you ever saw it—
how good I actually was.
Not loud about it,
not chasing credit,
just consistently… right.
And maybe that’s the part that lingers—
not whether I’m missed,
but whether you ever understood
what was there to lose.
Or if one day, in some small moment,
you pause—
and think, almost without meaning to:
things used to run a little smoother.
And leave it at that.