Someone has owned this notebook before I did.
Although, this page, for me, represents a beginning, the start of something new.
It is really page two for the notebook.
I wonder what the human who had this before is doing now? How this notebook ended up back on the shelves. One incomplete page, dated and splattered with clumps of glitter.
There is a story there. I would like to know it. I, most likely, never will.
There is a human being out in this world who once owned a notebook. They do not own that notebook anymore. How (in)significant was this notebook to their life? Would they even remember it?
We are all so closely connected.
Here I am now. March third, twenty-twenty. Starting a new notebook.
Nothing else is new in life, only just continuing on.
But this, this is new and thrilling.
Who knows were we will be at the last page?
Maybe it will be someone else's notebook by then.
Maybe they will wonder about me.
AMV