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.