In-Between Alphabet: M is for Maybe

Maybe consists of the tension between two or more choices, and the inherent initial indecision connecting them.  Maybe only appears when each possibility is equally viable but not equal in consequence.  It is a set of one-way crossroads.  Once a decision is made, the other roads dissipate into the amorphous ether of never-was.  Maybe is made of both yes and no, both existing as a part and a whole, an individual-sized Schrodinger limbo.

She says Maybe and he barely manages not to grind his teeth in frustration, the tick of the clock seeming louder with each passing second, minute of indecision.  It seems like such a simple thing, choosing what victuals to ingest, but they’re locked in a struggle of epic proportions better suited to a swords-and-sandals film than in the close confines of their relatively mundane home, the air outside hot and muggy enough to add fuel to his impatience.  Intellectually, he understands her hesitation in making the final decision.  Yet, no matter how often he assures her that he doesn’t mind either way, that his love for her won’t diminish if she chooses to eat hamburgers over sushi or vice versa, she insists on dithering, her mouth tight, her eyes watching each twitch of his facial muscles as if she can read his mind from the slide of skin across his bone structure.  She says Maybe and he throws his hands in the air, stomping off into the bedroom to see whether he’ll die of starvation before she makes up her mind.