everybody is looking at my baggage

It feels weird to say it, but everybody is looking at my baggage. I don’t know how they can see it, but still, they’re looking at it. Why? I have no clue. All I know is that I am bringing this baggage everywhere I go. When I am all alone, it stares at me. When I want to go outside, it won’t let me go alone. Even when I am having a good time with loved ones, I feel its presence, since I keep holding it without noticing. It feels like a phantom pain at this point.

One time, when I tried to hop on a bus, a stranger helped me carry it. It didn’t take him too long to realize that… it was empty all along! He gave me a funny look, but maybe he was only helping because the baggage was about my size. Either way, I believe that he thought of me as an impostor; as a wannabe “damsel in distress”, trying so hard to perform that she’s having a tough time even though… she isn’t at all. 

It’s my baggage after all. Only I can decide if it’s heavy or not. Sometimes it is, sometimes it is not. I am sure about one thing: I have to carry it all the time. My only problem is, now it’s being exposed, under a spotlight, being accessible to everyone publicly. Completely vulnerable to every predator out there. It feels like being too vulnerable has its own power; the power of making them think that they have the power.

I bought it for 90 euros, for my trip back home. My friend said that she always carries less when she goes back home and she returns heavier when she’s back. I am not so sure if she means this metaphorically, or concretely. Let’s see how my baggage will handle all that when we’re travelling back home. 

And I still have one more question in my mind: Will I ever be comfortable to carry it on my own, instead of waiting for someone to help me carry it? 

This opens up another question in my head, like that time when a bisexual girl told me that it was easier to date boys for her because she didn’t want to be an equal with a girl, but a princess with a boy. She specifically gave the example of a baggage, how she tried to carry it herself when she was dating a girl and how her then-boyfriend wouldn’t let her carry it herself. I think it’s more of a gender-role-culture-bullshit problem instead of a partner problem, but… maybe that’s her baggage, who knows?

I remember one time when I was in a train, and I talked very briefly with a girl, mainly to ask if the seat in front of her was reserved or not. We didn’t talk at all during the trip, but somehow, she also helped me with my luggage. It wasn’t even that big, she didn’t owe me anything at all, but still, she helped. Maybe she didn’t think of this as a big thing, but for me, it was a very genuine thing to do. “Hey stranger, I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but still, I’ll help you carry it.” - it even feels like “Die Welt ist fort, ich muss dich tragen” poem from Celan. The world is gone, and I should carry your luggage, as you have to carry mine.

What am I carrying in this baggage? It feels like the Pandora’s Box at this point, but the God of War III version, in which it carries hope in itself. I am carrying this baggage which is filled with hope which resonates within itself to be more powerful. 

A broken baggage is a very embarrassing one. When I think about it, I get the chills. What will happen if my beloved baggage breaks out of nowhere, despite all of my efforts (like sitting on it to close it, barely) what if it just… leaks out? Would it be my fault to overpack or would it be its own fault to not be sturdy enough? I have no idea. Maybe both, since it’s a relationship on its own. 

So, now I am putting this baggage for you to see. I don’t really care if it’s only one person or not, if you are someone that I know or not, or even if we have history or not, I don’t care. Just know that everybody has to take care of their own baggage; so that they’ll help us carry ourselves easily, like they’re supposed to.