The email came with a red notification

The email came with a red notification,

the word CANCELED in capital letters

like it was shouting at me,

like the internet was angry about it too.

I stared at it for a long time,

waiting for it to change,

waiting for the letters to rearrange themselves

into something that made sense.

The suitcase sits in the corner

where I packed it three days ago,

still full of the person I was planning to be

in a place I'm not going to.

I'm not here.

I'm not there.

I'm in the gap between,

in the space where the plan was,

where the destination used to be solid

and now is just an empty seat on a calendar.

I could go anyway.

I could pack differently, go differently.

But instead I'm standing here

looking at the suitcase,

looking at the canceled email,

watching the person I was supposed to become

dissolve.