10/23 continued

The driver wished me a good trip and thanked me for the money. Perhaps his drivers training took place in a war zone, but a very nice man indeed. He was so warm I felt a little bad for entertaining the notion of the dock murder scene. I found my way through the station. Got through security. Everything is done. I have my ticket, my passport, I made it on time with just the right amount of money! J I sit down…relax. The lady next to me tries to be nice and start a conversation, but I don’t know what she’s saying. Could be Portuguese. We smile uncomfortably and then turn back to stare at the buses coming and going. Other people are saying goodbyes to their families. Some men and women are crying, well sobbing. I try not to stare and wonder about the reasons for their travels and if maybe they are saying goodbye not knowing if they are going to see each other again.

I’m an hour early I have time to kill. OH FUCK! What did I forget? You don’t remember? I set it up for you in the beginning. Ok, I’ll wait while you read back…….

Well I didn’t figure you would so here it is…I grabbed my bags and jacket, but not the single most import thing (besides my passport). I left my fucking ipod. IN A HOSTEL! I left my fucking ipod in a hostel. Shit shit shit. Should I go get it? No, no time. Do I change my bus ticket and leave tomorrow just so I can retrieve it and have no way of getting a hold of my dad to tell him of the change, unless he happens to check his email? Fuck, what if I do go back and someone has already nabbed it? I have to stay. Shit. I still have my shuffle, but my charger is this my ipod and my earbuds, shit. So here I sit, pissed and mourning. Not mourning the loss of some family member heading on some sort of mysterious journey full of opportunities for peril or perhaps merriment. Nope. I grieve for Sigor Ros, which would be perfect right now. I pout for Damien Rice, Ray Lamontagne, Iron and Wine, ODB, and 30Rock. Oh, tina fey, I’ve been falling asleep to the first season of 30Rock since April. No more Sublime, no more Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, no more save a horse ride a cowboy for those moments I just need to remember something funny. No more. Maybe, when I get to brazil I’ll call the hostel and they can send it to me? Yeah, totally no problem, right? With this thought I begin denial. I’m grieving, it’s a process.

During the bus ride I try to process that maybe it’s a good thing I lost my ipod. Maybe, it happened for a reason so I can’t hide under my headphones. (Or hide what’s beyond my inner ear buds…yeah, I’m that nerdy). Processing didn’t work. I’m sure you can understand. At this point I just hope it’s being loved. And it didn’t get wiped. Stupid thieving bastards, LEAVE my ipod alone!

It’s a process, no one heals over night.