Not My Problem.

Author's Note - I saw the 'dark wood' as a symbol of the struggle to choose a path, rather than a reference to religion. 

-

Don’t pick that apartment. The landlord has two chihuahuas and expects rent paid early.

It started as a way to avoid an unavoidable situation.

Lock your door. You don't want the kettle to be stolen or the place to be trashed, do you?

I felt lucky and grateful to the point where I thought if I questioned it, it might vanish. So I played along like a servant to their king. I had to convince myself that the person guiding me was the same person I am now. But that’s not true. 

WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. It's extremely difficult to get into a college if you MISS THE INTERVIEW.

The changes may appear small when observed separately from the finished product, but when compared together, they are much more significant.

Life events change people, so what would happen if they were prevented?

I was blindly following someone who was not myself.

-

My ears fill with the sound of seatbelts unlatching and cellphones chiming with updated notifications as we touch down on the runway. People with connecting flights scramble from their seats the moment the plane reaches the gate, grabbing for their luggage in the overhead bin. I stand, wringing my hands, watching quietly as everyone drags their suitcases down the aisle. 

Eventually, only the flight attendants remain, so I move forward toward the front. 

It usually brings me joy to see the empty rows of seats, free of the chaos of demanding passengers. It is simple. By removing people from the equation the atmosphere can regain its original state of calm. 

By the time I've collected my two suitcases from baggage claim, I leave the airport and make my way toward the garage. The aggressive swerving of tires can be heard from a distance and it's no surprise that a small pile-up of cars has formed outside. On the sidewalk, people attempt to catch the attention of their supposed pick-up drivers by gesturing sharply toward the traffic jam. Taxis are being flagged down or whistled at as soon as they’re visible to pedestrians through the blur. Vehicle lights shine blindly through the fog due to low visibility, a common occurrence this time of year.

It feels as if my arms are engulfed in the soft prickle of mist.

This is something I've learned to deal with; it's about the best Oregon weather you could ask for in mid-October. Erin Bow, an author I admire, wrote: “At night the fog was thick and full of light, and sometimes voices.” 

-

The sky is almost black except for twinkling stars, or maybe planes. It's pretty difficult to tell with all the city buildings shining in the distance; light pollution is a real thing. I lugged my suitcases through the front door of the building. My apartment is on level three, but luckily they installed an elevator last month.

Take the stairs. Unless you want it to be a very late night …

You have got to be kidding me.

I only obliged because of how regretful I’d be if something were to truly happen. It's just an elevator, offering to lift my burdens for a minute. But no, maybe the cable will snap, and I will fall to my death instead. That would be very unfortunate after a day's worth of travel. 

The stairs to the building are located outside. As I drag my bags up the steps one at a time, I can also feel heavy rain droplets splatter my face. How pleasant. I approach the top of floor two in a heap, damp skin slick with sweat. The raggedness of my breathing led me to take a moment to rest. My eyes ache. They're most likely bloodshot from being forced open for countless hours.

Suddenly the light fixtures above me flicker and then everything goes dark. All I can hear is the soft buzzing of the air conditioners as the building becomes quiet. Under my furrowed brow, I sneak a glance at the 24-hour Denny's across the street. It looks discontinued but I can still see the faint candle-lit glow of people bustling inside. As a result of my investigation, I conclude that we have had a city-wide power outage, a blackout.

It is odd how grateful I now feel for this forced intuition (despite all the unnecessary labor).

Taking a deep breath and straightening my posture, I drag myself once again up the stairs.

Regardless of the deepening bags under my eyes, I delay sleep for a quick rinse hoping to wash the airport stench off me. I take my shower in the dark.

-

Friendships like that don't last. So there's no point in starting them.

It was okay at first. I learned to deal with these opinionated suggestions popping up from time to time. But it was only when it was too late that I realized these paths and decisions that I chose to follow had changed me.

I do not know the mechanics of this situation; or whether my avoidance of these simple inconveniences affects my future outcome at all. I mean, in a way it would have to, right?

Initially, I thought it was God warning me not to make more mistakes before I was banished to hell - like some Good Place kind of thing based on good deeds. I knew I would be in the negatives if that were the case. 

I’d never been particularly religious. It was a foreign concept to me much like how some people don't know how delicious cold pizza tastes. It's similar because even though it may be a better way of living, it doesn’t mean much. After all, you’ve lived this different way your whole life. You could see yourself forever eating hot pizza because you don’t feel compelled to eat cold pizza.

-

It started small, a thoughtful voice in my head telling me to skip the train and take the bus instead. To not skip breakfast, stop for a bagel. 

Once I got off the bus at the closest stop to my work building, I stop at Jerry’s Bagel Cafe. It's not a cafe, it's a cart on wheels with a hazardous-looking multicolored umbrella attached. It only takes a minute, there’s no line and the man takes the bagel straight out of the dull miniature display case. I pay in cash and tip him the change. I continue my walk to work, bagel in hand. As I do, I recite my prepared pitch for this afternoon’s conference under my breath.

Often while I’m out, riding the train to work or simply roaming the city, I’ll notice a fellow reader. Like now, a man rushes in front of me holding his hat to his head and dragging a fully stuffed suitcase. He has stubble on his chin and a tired look in his eyes as he attempts to check his phone with his already overstuffed hands. With each step he takes, the backpack slung across his arm sways more violently. As I watch him cross the street at an intersection, I can see a book tucked tightly between his other arm. This particular book brings a grin to my face. It has an unusual turquoise cover, and it is the second in a series of romance novels. I read the first book, but it didn't interest me. It intrigues me because this man does not look like the type to become absorbed in a fantasy novel.

THUD

The bagel drops. I stop and stare wide-eyed straight ahead of me.

An air conditioning vent has dropped from the skies above, not even 10 steps ahead of me. Had I not been distracted by the guy, I might’ve noticed it was falling sooner.

It seems it only fell from a two-story window but with its weight and the force of gravity, I imagine it made a dent in the pavement. That could have been me standing underneath it.

Is this what it feels like to be lucky?

-

A hollow pit of dread filled my stomach when I arrived at the office. 

I felt like a walking corpse. I should have been dead, right? 

I bombed the pitch. By the end of it, my face was flushed, and I was told they would "consider my suggestion" as if I had not presented them with an overly thick portfolio of plans and statistics. 

Later I found out that the train station I board every day at 8:52 am, collided with another car shortly after leaving the station this morning, resulting in the deaths of six people.

-

It was the same type of intrusive thought that led me to ask out a fellow college student when I was a freshman. At the time, I perceived them as suggesting that there was a simpler way to achieve my desired result, a happy long-term relationship. It wasn't until after a two-month vacation to Rome with said partner, however, that I realized I’d been wrong.

I returned home alone and earlier than expected. So it's safe to say that didn’t work out.

It wasn't the end of that relationship that was most devastating, but my loss of trust in this conscience. Why would it set me up for failure? This wasn't a quick breakup either. I stayed in bed for days, drowning in sheets and covers. All I could feel was a betrayal beyond words, though it was mostly directed at myself.

-

The temporary moments in life are the most valuable. Do not take them for granted, as they will soon pass. While you say goodbye, keep the memories you cherish close to your heart.

That was the last piece of advice I received.