Destination: Self

I first bought my ticket aboard the Crazy Train a year ago, in pursuit of the town known as Happily Ever After, population 2. The pamphlet makes it look like a little slice of heaven. Backyards with dogs who's tails wag. Houses with white picket fences. Children playing in the streets with trees that line the cement sidewalks. Yet, on this train ride, I didn't realize it would make pit stops at small hamlets known as Despair, Sadness, Anxiety, and this really interesting village known as Bat Shit Crazy. It has many tourist attractions. I found myself always waiting for this ride to end, in pursuit of my final destination. I'd ride through all these pit stops never really taking in all the sights or looking at what they had to offer. I just knew the train would eventually stop and I would know where to get off.

Recently the train stopped at a town called Self. Funny name. Sounds enticing. I decide to get off. My first steps into this town are surrounded by water. I feel a sense of calm slowly returning.The sun reflecting my image off the glittery water. I am shocked at what I see. Who is this woman staring back at me? It's not the woman I imagined. I didn't realize the trip and pit stops had turned me into a weary traveler. Where was the excited adventurer I was when I first embarked? Where had she gone? The town of Self opened my eyes up to what had transpired over my journey. My body aches from sitting in thoughts of my final arrival. I hadn't looked out the window at what was passing me by. My eyes were straight ahead, waiting for my destination to glow green, so I could gather my baggage and depart. How long will this ride take, I ask myself. How many damn stops?

Here at Self, I've stretched my legs. I begin to move my aching joints from sitting and staring too long. Each step through the town of self brings me back to who I am and who I want to be. I take my time window shopping in this town. I let the breeze hit my neck and push the hair out of my eyes. I see better with everything reflecting back at me through the water and the window shops. And in this town of Self, I decide to stay.

As the train whistle blows in a final attempt to call me back, I realize I've left my baggage on board. Wheels turn, smokes builds, and the familiar sound of gears picking up ease my mind, as I continue to walk down new dirt pathways in the town of Self. Baggage free.

And in the actions of one woman named Felicia, I wave goodbye.


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