I cannot press send

I have been awake since 2am. The drafts are still open on my phone. I typed it one more time at 3:14. I land Monday. Joburg. OR Tambo.

I did not send it.

I called Werner instead. I said tell him. He said, in his kitchen-in-Pretoria voice, tell him yourself.

He is right. I hate when he is right.

The door is open. My bag is packed. The plane is in two days. And I am standing here like a person who does not know how to walk through a door.

Some part of me wants him to say no. So I can turn around. So I can say I tried, and it was not me.

The blue light of the screen is the only light on.

I know that is the ugly thought. I am writing it down so it is true.