The other day, one of my little brothers walked into my room while I was working on something, and mentioned that he had a substitute teacher who “knew” me but didn’t have updated contact info for me. I figured out who it was pretty quickly. I’m surprised they remembered my brother at all, especially considering they wouldn’t have seen him since he was a baby.

I have to say, I was surprised. The way it sounded (coming from my brother, anyway), there might have been concepts of an attempt to reach out to me? I don’t know, but that has been on my mind for about a week now.

I doubt that person is reading this post at all. I’ve long since changed my name, and the only information they have of me will come secondhand from people we mutually know. And I certainly don’t remember all of the details of what happened, either. All of that is in the past.

Many of you reading will probably wonder why I haven’t just… spoken with them. Well, honestly, it’s because I haven’t in maybe 10 years or so? I don’t remember. That’s a long time, though, and the awkwardness is absolutely there.

But, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to patch things up and move forward. Why? Because ever since my grandma passed, I’ve lived by one rule: “Life’s too short.”

So maybe I should take this is a sign. Maybe.