Intangibles - Chapter 10

Sometimes you have to hold your breath and hope. It doesn't always work out, you don't always get your wish, they're fragile, the intangibles. In the end though, nothing stays the same, nothing goes on forever, but if you're lucky, now and again, you'll get a wink you'll never forget. And if you're extremely lucky you'll get just what you wanted for your birthday.

Song pairings for the story, the playlist:
“About You” - The 1975
“Settling” - Ripe
"Never Tear Us Apart" - INXS

Apple Playlist:
https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/finding-baggage-claim-6/pl.u-RRbVYqVuqY7pd

Spotify Playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1f8F0l7IUb7CTcja4n9jwA?si=CA6kuAwRTHWaEwqhuDDZSQ

***

A story about landing. Finding Baggage Claim 6 is about what I’ve learned over the last ten years since I went from the life I always imagined with the great job and the great guy, a downtown view from 14 floors up, pretentious wines and pricey sunglasses, black town cars to first class check in, I went from that, to a life I never imagined that started with no job and no guy, certainly no view; a life that started with me sipping house wine at a sports bar and clinging to those pricey sunglasses like a toddler’s transition object; a life that started at economy check in; a life that started with me moving home to live with my parents at 35 years old; a life that started at baggage claim.

The story is written in chapters, and read to someone I shared my life with for 5 years. Our goodbye was never worthy of what we’d had. A year after we split, in the summer, we finally spoke. We promised, when we were cut short, we’d do it again when we had more time. We’d have a good long catch up. Before we could though, the following fall, before we could become best pals or just exes or acquaintances, or whatever, before we could say all that was still unsaid and pack up what was still unpacked, there was an accident that changed him forever. His memories were fractured and scattered but my friend is still there.

I put everything down for him in a sort of journal, that good long catch up, telling him our little story, and some of mine too, I don’t know how much he remembers, telling him what I’ve been up to and why it took so long to reach out. Telling him how the last 10 years have taught me that love can be meant to be, but not meant to be forever; that the job and the car and the view, even the sunglasses; none of it really matters; telling him I got married and that despite all my efforts otherwise, I’ve become my mother. And that I ended up in the last place I ever expected.

FindingBaggageClaim6.com