Ten.Four Hundred & Ninety-Three
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3 am.
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Bagel run. Don’t forget the plastic knives for butter.
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Still sick to the stomach. I think to myself, “This is a thing for you now, isn’t it? This is the new way your body manifests stress.”
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Weak coffee.
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And like that, the weight is lifted and we’re leaning back into relief. No more stomach pains.
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This is the part that I’m actually dreading the most.
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I take a bit of cake and grab his hand. We did it.
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There is always more than you think there is.
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Arepas dropped off at the front door.
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Midnight folding. Frasier. To-do list for tomorrow. Weak eyes. I can sleep on the plane.