Maybe later. Been saying that a while. Lease renewal by the toaster, rent went up again. Car needs tires before winter, there goes that weekend. Wedding invite on the fridge, RSVP by Friday. We said maybe we'd make the trip. We say maybe a lot lately. There's a little house we pass with the porch we both like. Sign went from FOR SALE to SOLD somewhere overnight. Not saying never. Just not this month. Funny how fast another one comes. Maybe later. Maybe next year. After the car, after the rent, after something clears. Maybe later. When there's room. Every little someday keeps getting moved. Not giving up. Just moving the date. Later's getting crowded with everything we wait for. Maybe later. Dentist says I should come back. I nod like that's the plan. Grocery receipt's a little longer for the same two bags. Retirement sent another chart. Nice of them to believe in me. Dad asks when I'm taking time off. I say, "Eventually." There's a suitcase in the closet with the tag still tied. Bought it for a trip we haven't taken. Still looks nice. Maybe later. Maybe next year. After the car, after the rent, after something clears. Maybe later. When there's room. Every little someday keeps getting moved. Not giving up. Just moving the date. Later's getting crowded with everything we wait for. Maybe later. I don't need the whole five-year plan. Just one year that stops changing its mind. One thing we said we'd do before it turns into something we used to talk about. Maybe later. Maybe next year. Maybe someday finally lands somewhere near. Maybe later. That's what we say. Put another little life on layaway. Not giving up. Still making plans. Just getting good at writing them in pencil. Maybe later. Calendar's full. Funny. Nothing happened.
