The hotel room was
adequate. Wooden floor, two windows, one TV. Two beds, freshly made.
A comfortable armchair, a nice bathroom. The bathroom had no lock.
But it didn't matter, since I had the room to myself.
I don't really like
hotel rooms. They always seem very impersonal to me. Sterile. When
I'm there with a friend, it doesn't really bother me. We bring our
own dirt with us. But when I'm there alone, the feeling of emptiness
amplifies.
There is too much space
for my thoughts to spread out. Nothing that grabs my attention, that
focuses my mind. I just wander around aimlessly, inside my head.
Emotion well up without my bidding. Melancholy. Sadness, almost. But
not quite.
She comes to mind.
Unbidden, unavoidable, but welcome. Images linger in my brain. Her
smile when she looks at me. Her smile when she watches a movie. Her
smile when she is lying next to me. He smile when she is looking down
on me. Her smile.
I can't recall her
without seeing her smile. Of course, she doesn't always smile. Well,
at least, I think so. But I can't imagine her otherwise. I wonder if
it's the same for her ? I hope so.
It's not that I don't
like thinking about her. I do. But it always reminds me that she
isn't here. I could go to where she is, of course. But what then ?
Love doesn't pay the bills. I need money to live, and so does she. I
have projects I need to see through. Not for glory or fame, but
because I need to be myself to be with her. Or so I feel.
There is nothing I can
do, really, right now. So there should be no reason to feel so sad.
There should be no reason to feel so guilty. But I can't stop. When I
hear her voice over the phone, when I feel she is sad, or depressed,
or angry, or tired, I want to be there with her. I want to take her
into my arms. I want to show her that I'll be there, that I'm on her
side. I want to show here that I care. Because if I don't, then how
can she know ? How can she be sure ?
I'm still afraid. Afraid
of making promises I won't keep. Afraid of saying words I won't be
able to take back. Afraid of hurting her. Afraid of being hurt. But I
can still feel my heart beating.
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