just in case

“Just in case…” is a beacon. Our glossed over, half joking, pass by. It's everything that we've heard about, read about, witnessed, experienced.

“Just in case…” is code. It's vigilance. It's breadcrumbs. It's backup. It's assurance. It's shared locations, it's shared screenshots, it's photos, it's profiles, it's pins, it's tracking, it's usernames, it's aliases.

“Just in case…” is an alert. Foreshadowing. A shot in the dark. A shout. A feeling. A habit.

“Just in case…” is for every girl, every woman because of men. Not all men, but always a man. Men we know, men we trust, men we love, men we open ourselves to.

“Just in case…” is a reminder of what can go wrong, what does go wrong, and how wrong it goes.

“Just in case…” is a sad, resigned expectation because stats don't lie and we all know someone, are someone.

“Just in case…” is trying to defy odds. Is hoping against hope. Is operating while scared. Is trusting there's still good to be found and that it's not all men.

“Just in case…” is casual. It's tacked on. It's an afterthought. It hangs out. It's cool. It's chill. It's the downest play of all down plays.

“Just in case…” is scared. And sad. And worried. But lonely. And trying.

“Just in case…” is understood. It is universally and immediately embodied by those who know and completely absent for those who don't. It is omnipotent.

“Just in case…” is trust. A hand holding yours in the crowd. An advocate. A voice that speaks when yours is silenced. A champion. A successor.