bruises on my chin, the time when we counted every black car passing

It's like I put everything in a purse and I tried to take it over seas with me, but I left it on the airplane. I loved my purse, but it was material and it was a very heavy bag filled with lots of things. While I was gone, I got used to not having my purse and although I was sad a first, I knew it was just a purse and I moved on. But, by chance, on another plane ride, I found beneath my seat the bag from so long ago. I rummaged through it, found all of my old things, and instantly reattached. But, while I was gone, people had been rifling through my stuff. Vandalizing my things, making phone calls on my cell, using my makeup, leaving me notes in the pockets. The plane ride is not very long, and it is going to come to an end quite quickly. I love my purse and the things in it have been a part of my life for a while. But, in my absence, it has all become different and much of it does not feel like mine anymore, but more like a shadow of a thing I once had. I must decide whether or not to keep the purse, heavy as it is and so different than what I remember, or shove it away, back under the seat and pretend I never re-encountered it.
it's strange that I am home, but still untethered.