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I'm sorry, so very sorry. That's the only way I know to begin this letter.
The other day, at the airport, you saw a side of me that no one has ever seen. In fact, I've never seen that guy, no...that monster, either.
I travel often and, because of my status, my bag is always one of the first to come off the plane. The conveyer starts and I know the drill all too well. Bag after bag after bag roll by but mine is nowhere to be seen. How? This has never happened before. I turn to scan the crowd and that's when I saw you, there by the exit with your husband. The two of you were on your way out the door but you were rolling my bag.
I panicked. For a split second, I had convinced myself that if you two made it through those doors with my bag, I'd never see it again. But why? The airport is small and the distance from the building to the garage is great? Where could you even hide? But why, again? Time has wrinkled your skin and your muscles are now too depleted to make a dashing escape.
It's such a beautiful bag because I do well to take care of my things. The wheels glide across the tile as easily as our plane just cut through the sky. Still, it must have been difficult moving a bag bearing the weight of the clothes I just wore on this two week business trip.
As I darted across the way, I kept my eyes on the unusual ID tag dangling from the top handle. As I draw near, the tag becomes more in focus and I'm further confirming that yes, this is my bag you're trying to walk away with.
I approached you with no plan. Instead, all of the anger from a horrible business trip with foul weather came bubbling up. We met there, just at the exit and when I called out, you turned to me in the most gentle way. You're eyes look to me and I know they've seen much since even well before I was born and I know that, on a normal day, I would love to hear your stories. Your hair is solid while and the light passing through gives hint that you could be an angel.
And then it happened, I unloaded anger on you and watched your face morph from peace to concern. I flashed my tag at your face to confirm with you it was, in fact, my bag and then I stormed out to the garage.
The drive to my family is only fifteen minutes or so but, in that short time, I knew I had made a mistake. I felt horrible about it all. That's not me. I've never done anything like this before. I'm actually a great guy. I have a great job, I dress well, I have a large family and we all get along well. My wife and I do things with the kids often and we take a vacation at least once per year. We visit with friends and family often and I love hanging out with my work buddies. Ask any of them and I bet many would tell you that I'm one of the nicest people they've ever met.
You can't believe that, though, and only I know why. You're right to think the way you do. On any other day, I would have laughed off this mistake with you and would have then offered to go get your bag from the conveyer since it, no doubt, looks just like mine. We could have parted ways on a friendly note and had a funny story to share with others.
I have no clue why I acted the way I did. Yes, I had been away from family for a good stretch this go round and yes, the project didn't go so well but none of this was your fault and, typically, no one knows when I'm having a bad day. I shouldn't have done this to you.
Months have passed and still, after all this time, I think of you and want you to know just how very sorry I am. Words can't describe my guilt in enough detail.
I hope you are doing well and that, in your future travels, you don't have to deal with folks acting the way I did on that day.
No need to accept it as I'm not deserving of that but I appreciate you taking the time to read my apology.
Thank you...
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This is a novni helper: people often snap and it can take the slightest thing to make it happen so don't worry about it. I hope this lady reads your post.
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