What I’ve Carried – by Jenessa Joy

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What I’ve carried: The first thing I think of is that box.

I don’t even remember for sure what was in it. Shoes maybe? I liked shoes, and I had a lot of them. Maybe shoes. Or clothes? I had lots of clothes. It could have been that.

I don’t know for sure. But my best guess is that it was a ridiculous mixture of things that somehow worked their way into my possession. That mixture hadn’t managed to get packed in my first round of unorganized packing but instead were forgotten and thrown into a medium sized cardboard box.

This box most likely contained the following: something to do with a hairbrush. Some pencils. A zillion bobby pins that I had obviously misplaced whenever I needed them, but would reappear during the time of moving. One item of clothing that I loved but had forgotten that I owned. (Maybe, probably, that blue shirt that I forget to wear all the time?) And finally a old coffee mug that I had abandoned on my desk.

Yes, that was probably it. A mixture. Chaos in a box. Not really a surprise honestly…among the things I was skilled at and oh-so capable off, packing was not among them.

So. That was that. Unorganized. Chaos in a box.

Little did I know that that box and the events that followed helped represent what would come later in life.

But for now? For now it was just a box. A box with chaotic, disorganized contents that looked blatantly ordinary in the cardboard shell. And honestly? The contents themselves would not fascinate anyone for very long, not even there pack-rat of an owner.

But how does this boringly ordinary box become one of the strangest things I would carry? I suppose it’s because of the events that followed and how many boxes like it I would carry in future that made it strange. These boxes shaped and created my life in intricate ways I did not expect.

At the time I didn’t have a car. It was mid-afternoon and all of my friends and family were working. But for some reason I was absolutely, positively, determined to get this box out of my current housing situation.

Bus it would be.

At the time the idea seemed perfectly adequate. I had taken more fragile things on public transit – heavier things too. It would be okay, I was sure of it. I traipsed down to the bus stop with the box in my hands.

Surprisingly enough the first part went relatively smoothly even through the fact that it was approaching “rush hour” the bus remained fairly quiet and when I stepped onto the sidewalk following said bus ride relief flooded my system.

Unfortunately that moment passed rather quickly upon the realization that I had to cross the road. The traffic lights were out which confronted me with the fact that I would have to scurry across the road with said “chaos box” to the other side with absolutely no assurance that I would make it safely.

Somehow I managed to convince myself that I would be okay. ‘It’s just jaywalking.’ I joked in my head. ‘It’ll be fine.’ I had come all this way with the box and there was no turning back now…and truly there was no “turning back”, because if I really, really wanted to take the box back  to where I had come from I would have to cross the road in order to catch the right bus.

There was really no preventing this.

I had waited patiently until I had seen some sort of break in traffic. I edged my way onto the road and scurried across, gripping the box, my somewhat “precious cargo”, tightly. As I ran I felt something slipping. The box was fine, I had firm grasp. What could it be? As I stepped onto the sidewalk I turned back in horror to see a much different precious item lying in the middle of the street.

Like I said the events made it strange not the box itself. I didn’t realize, but I would carry many miscellaneous chaos boxes. And sometimes I would not expect to carry them. Sometimes I would expect to carry them. Sometimes I would think I had everything together like I thought I did when I had managed to cross the road successfully…Only to find later I had dropped something else behind, leaving it to die in my stead.

The box is not strange.

But the lesson it taught me is invaluable. Life does not go as expected. Sometimes what you physically carry is not truly the issue but the events surrounding.

♦♦♦

A/N: Thanks for reading! Recently I have started to study Creative Writing, including Creative Non-Fiction, and this is one of the assignments I wrote in class. I hope you enjoyed! 

Blessings, Smiles,
Prayers, and Music!!
♥JENESSA JOY♥

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