3 am.

Bagel run. Don’t forget the plastic knives for butter.

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.”

Weak coffee.

And like that, the weight is lifted and we’re leaning back into relief. No more stomach pains.

This is the part that I’m actually dreading the most.

I take a bit of cake and grab his hand. We did it.

There is always more than you think there is.

Arepas dropped off at the front door.

Midnight folding. Frasier. To-do list for tomorrow. Weak eyes. I can sleep on the plane.