I never thought I'd notice a bag so much.
It sits by the door,
half packed,
half unpacked,
waiting for wherever I'm staying next.
Lately,
my family has been going through a lot of change.
One night here,
one night there,
constantly moving between places,
trying to find a routine
when everything still feels uncertain.
For so long,
this felt like something far away.
Something I could see coming,
but never quite touch.
And now it's here.
The dogs come with me,
back and forth,
while familiar things stay behind.
A reminder that not everything
can fit into a bag.
I've been carrying clothes,
chargers,
toothbrushes,
and all the little things I need.
But I've also been carrying
the weight of change,
the uncertainty,
and the feeling of not always knowing
what tomorrow looks like.
Lately I've been tired.
The kind of tired that comes from adjusting.
From new rooms,
new routines,
and trying to feel at home
in more than one place at once.
Some days feel heavy.
But slowly,
I'm learning that home
isn't only a place.
It's the dogs asleep beside me.
The people who care about me.
The memories I take with me.
The pieces of myself
I carry wherever I go.
The bag is still by the door.
Still waiting.
But I think one day
it won't feel so heavy to carry.
( remember your worth, summer-rose h xxx)
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