The Carousel

Red bag. Green bag. Blue bag... another blue bag. The colors and names continue to mechanically move through their endless cycle. No goal. No aim. No purpose. Just to keep moving until some kind of entity claims it and cares for the fragile package inside. Much like my life, travelling in circles, waiting for someone or something to claim what I have to offer was my goal. For as long as I could imagine I have been circling through the same routine, the same group of friends, the same Friday night chill sessions, and the same bad taste in women, the same bad choices. For once, I wish this ride would stop and let me focus on what life really is and choose what paths suite me, the right choices.

.. ..

As I stood in the stuffy baggage claim, the smell of B.O. ambushing me from across the terminal brought me back to reality, hard. Gimme a break! You could smell the exhaustion rolling down his hairy back, moisture building up behind his knee-caps. Crap, I was tired from the ten hour flight from Japan as well, but I never let it get this bad. They have stuff for this kind of thing! I would have guessed that he boarded straight from a tourist sightseeing trip and didn't have time to shower, or at least lay on a layer of refreshing, winter spring scented deodorant. I felt sorry for the people who sat next to him, experiencing firsthand the horrid smell grow stronger with each passing hour that we were in the air. At least he got to alter his path. He got to sight see Japan for a week at least. He really looks like he's enjoying his carousel. So jealous. That's exactly how my trip should be, a new rotation and a new life.

.. ..

"Err... still no bag. What's up?" A reflection of how things go wrong when you go against the grain in the pattern that is your life. It happens on vacations. It's happening now. I stood there staring at the carousel thinking if fate was really random, or some entity bent on making life that much harder. I could feel it laughing at me, pointing its devious finger at me, watching my annoyed reaction as I begin to build frustration. Geez! I'm already down on my luck. Is this really necessary? Really?!

"Attention all passengers! This is a common sense announcement!..." Blah blah blah. This was the airports last ditch effort to knock some sense into naive passengers into making intelligent choices and to watch their useless baggage. Oh how bitter I was.

.. ..

"Err... coulda used that years ago."

.. ..

I couldn't focus anymore. My eyes felt like they were holding back an avalanche. The pressure behind my eyeballs zoned in on the frustrations and it began to show. Losing my center of balance, my body begins to sway. I notice myself no longer looking for my bag. It was lost and I knew it. Fatigue and stress took over my body. The only option left was to wait and reset my mood, sitting there at the "Lost" Baggage Claim, where all the lost souls end up. The veins in my head started thumping in annoyance. I pondered whether I should take my unbridled wrath to the innocent bag attendant who was also flustered with all the holiday chaos brought to him by travelers in the same predicament. I quickly vetoed the idea realizing that it just wasn't me. Maybe this was the reason she left me, because I was "lost". I didn't have an identity.

.. ..

After six years, she coulda said something! Anything that could have helped us. I shook my head. No, I don't need her. She left me and I didn't need her baggage! I was fine. I had no intention of being stuck with her baggage, on her life carousel. Not this time. I closed my eyes for a minute to calm my thoughts. The silence was calming, except for the constant clicking of bags being rolled over the dirty ceramic tiles as they exited the terminal. Other than that, I felt I could do this. I could start over.

.. ..

Suddenly, a thud at the carousel caught my attention. I could see my bag and something else. A new revelation hit me in the chest, mentally crashing me to the floor. As I walked towards my bag I realized something. That bag was her: the clothes she bought me, the cologne she would insist I wear, even my pj's, and even to my toothpaste. It was all her. She molded me, and left me with nothing.

.. ..

Then I saw it, my escape. I turned around, confidence overtaking me, courage leading me as I exited the shiny, newly cleaned, sliding glass doors. I felt freedom wipe across my face. The brightness and warmth renewed me. The fatigue was gone and was replaced with hope. Never once did I look back. I already knew, this was a new path, not a carousel, the right choice.