It’s easy to get lost in the airport. Not physically lost, but emotionally. Surrounded by strangers, and people from far and near, it’s simple to drop your identity and pick up another, if only for a layover. It’s one of the reasons I love the airport. It gets tiring being me sometimes. You have the luxury of clicking away if things get dull or annoying or bothersome. You have the choice not to see me at all. I don’t have such an escape.
But in an airport I can pretend I’m someone else. Not seriously, and not forever, but when I need to get away before or after getting away, it’s a nice feeling. Pretending to be lost is better than actually losing yourself. Safer too. And if that’s what it takes to return to the world that I know, if that’s what it takes to survive, then let me be lost at the airport. Await my arrival.
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