Packing starts tomorrow.

Tonight, I’m just stacking thoughts.

Packing List#

  • [X] Chargers

  • [X] Headphones

  • [X] One shirt I always wear

  • [X] One I want her to notice

  • [X] Running shoes

  • [X] Anticipation (heavy)

  • [X] Nerves (not optional)

  • [X] Confidence (optional)

  • [X] Doubt (rolled up tight)

  • [X] Self-control (stacked in layers: sweating)

  • [X] Restraint (folded three times: barely holding)

Things I Can’t Fold#

  • The version of me that only shows up when she does.

  • A hundred half-finished poems disguised as text messages.

  • The breath I’ll finally let go when I see her face.

  • The space I’ve been making for whatever comes next.

Notes#

  • Emotional weight: carry-on

  • Past mistakes: checked

  • Hope: layered on top

Tomorrow, the zipper will zip.
          the bag will close.

Everything will somehow fit.

But tonight?

I’m just laying it all out,
    trying to remember how to pack light—

    for something that already means…
                                     everything.