She’s awake too early.

I barely slept at all.

Four hours to go,
     and time is moving
     like it knows we’re watching.

This is madness.

The kind that makes
    6 a.m. feel unreasonable,
       but also inevitable.

The kind that turns
    highways into countdowns,
    airports into purgatories,

    boarding passes into paper-thin lifelines.

She’s trying to sleep.

I’m trying to breathe.

Neither of us is doing a great job.

It’s ridiculous,
    how close we are.

How distance
    can still feel like distance,
    even when it's down to mere miles.

Final approach.

Wheels up soon.

Then: wheels down.

The rush,
The tilt,
The *exhale*

And then—
 finally…
         no more waiting.