Plane Ride

I'm on a plane, high above the world. Watching everything becoming smaller and smaller. What am I doing on a plane? Going on vacation of course. some may say that I have not done anything to deserve this trip, and they could be right. In the eyes of many I am a professional slacker.It is possible that this is just my own insecurities coming to surface, but I think there is some truth to that thought. Well, whether I deserve it or not, here I am. I gaze out my window, and try and get lost in the beauty as the wing cuts through clouds. I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see a bigger man wearing a nice business suite with bolo tie. "Excuse me." He says in a polite Texas accent. "May I borrow you pillow?" I hand it over to him without saying a word. He places the pillow behind his neck. " I didn't intend to nap, I just need better support." He continues. I nod my head as if I am interested. I must look like such an anti - social jerk right now, but I'm really not in the mood to talk to anybody. "The name is Russ." I shake his hand. He has a firm, almost death grip. "You don't say to much do you.?" He asks me, trying to engage in some sort of conversation. "I guess I don't have much to say." Russ laughs. "Non sense, everyone has something to say." "Maybe." Russ searches for a different angle. He notices my shoe box safely buckled in on the seat between the two of us. "What's that?" He asks me. "Just a few of my belongings." "Don't you want to put it in the overhead storage?" "No, it's too important. That's why I paid for another seat." Russ opens his eyes wide. "You paid for another seat for a shoe box?" "Yep." "It must be important." "You have no idea." "No, I don't." He says casually. The is a brief silence. "I'm important." I tell him. "Really?" I sink back into my seat. "Well, I want to be." Russ gives me a sympathetic look, almost as if he knew exactly who I was. "Who is to say you are not?" I shrug. "You would like to fit in?" He asks me. "Are you implying that I don't?" Russ shakes his head no. " No, but I think you are." I hang my head. "It's funny when you are a kid, you don't care about that stuff. But then you get older, it suddenly matters. You want to be understood. You want to know that you are accepted." "You don't feel accepted or understood?" I change the subject. "Who are you? Why am I opening up to you?" " I am just a friendly passenger making conversation." "No offense, but I don't want to open up to someone I don't know." "And you don't have to, but let me ask you this, what is in the box?" I unbuckle the shoe box and place it on my lap. "It's me." "The real you?" "An aspect of me. A very important part." "Then keep it with you always."