Guess what, Mari?
Tonight’s ours.

No schedule.
No company parties.
No guest lists or showtimes.

Just the evening—
    wide open,
    soft around the edges,

    asking us what we want to do with it.

We could get dressed up—
    go somewhere highend,

    pretend we’re fancy for a few hours.

We could wander the city
    like we’ve got no place to be,

    collecting stories disguised as cheap drinks.

We could order every dessert,
    on all the menus…

    and pretend it’s for science.

Or we could keep it familiar—
    meet at Irbys,
    grab our spot,
    laugh too much over nothing…

    then head back to the Sylvan
    like it’s a ritual carved in soft stone.

This is our last night,
    *for now*

But it doesn’t have to feel like a closing.

It can feel like what it always feels like
    when it’s just us—

    like the start of something
    we already know how to live.

See you soon.

Let’s make this one count.

(by not counting, at all)