No box of chocolates

Of all the words that express probability in English my absolute favourite is “perhaps”. Certainly “perhaps”. It’s even “perhaps” for sure. “Perhaps” without any doubt. 
That’s because “probably” sounds too bubbly. It makes me think of someone who cannot swim, but has fallen off a boat, and half-drowning, exclaims “Probably, I’ll be dead in a minute”. Possibly in a less composed manner than it looks on paper though. 

“Maybe” is fine, but sounds a little childish, and inevitably brings “Maybe a baby” to my mind, while in my particular case is rather “maybe not”.
“Possibly” sounds too hissing. I don’t trust it, just as I don’t trust snakes. “Plausibly”, in turn, is too upscale. Which non-native speaker would use it in a conversation? “Doubtless”, on the other hand, leaves no doubt. I like to doubt. Lack of doubt smells of superficiality, while I prefer depths, except perhaps those of despair. 

But “perhaps” is so deliciously hesitant. After the initial “pe”, which could almost be a param-pam-pam, if you repeat it, it stops for a fraction of a second, as if preparing a surprise. And then, all of a sudden, there comes the funny “haps”, as if a dog snapped his mouth, or someone clapped a box shut the moment you were about to pick a chocolate. “Perhaps” assures me that life is none. No box of chocolates, I mean, “you never know what you’re gonna get”- as said a certain Forrest with considerable shares in a fruit company. 
It might be this. Or it might be that. Or yet something else. Without doubt.

I love “perhaps” for the surprise, the uncertainty and the playfulness it contains, all in one word. Absolute certitudes lead to failure or cruelty. I value people who don’t claim to have exclusive rights as far as the truth goes. 

And now, perhaps, I’ll be gone for two weeks. Perhaps it will rain, perhaps it won’t. Whatever the weather, I hope our spirits will be bubbly, but not drowning. Probably. Maybe. Plausibly. No snakes, please.