My Man of the Year

Have the words stopped flowing? Have my ideas all dried up? Not quite, but I am tired. Ocassionally, I feel sad. Sometimes I feel happy. Perhaps it is time for a break. It is all very well to dream of escaping, to say "Anywhere but here", but it is not enough. I feel that it is important to say what you want. Unfortunately, it means that you have to know what you want. What do I want?

I wonder where he is right now, the guy who left his suitcase with me. He said that he'll be sure to pick it up if and when he returns. I haven't heard a peep from him, and I am tempted to call him up. But I am afraid that I am imposing myself on him, like I've done so many times. He said that he may take the time off and travel and work a little in some place other than here. Every so often when I feel lost and want to escape, I think of him and wonder what he is doing, and wonder what if it had been me instead. But he is not me, and he may not even remember who I am. I am still here, and I cannot escape.

For the few seconds he was around, he made a difference. At the end of each year, I like to look back and ask myself who the most important person I met was. It's still a little early, but I think I've named my Man of the Year.