Archive | September 21, 2019

Waiting in a Motel Room

.

Waiting in a motel room; expecting soft knocks on the door at any time; the anticipation and nervousness that create an exhilarating feeling all within the body.

So many letters to get to know each other little by little, to see if the other is the right one, even if it’s only for just a couple of encounters, before small details start to show up and point us both in different directions, while retaining the memories for long in our separate ways.

How is he? Do I remember at this point? Does it matter anymore? The date is settled and here I am, in a motel room, waiting for him to meet him in person for the first time. The last note said: “We can talk, and take it from there, to wherever it goes”. But I know he’s expecting more than just talk, and so do I.

I decided to get naked and walk around in the room, waiting. I want to greet him like this, to show him that I am interested in more than just talk. And the thrill of opening the door to a stranger while being completely naked is too intense to just let it by.

In the meantime I need something to do. Time is going by too slow for my comfort, and butterflies keep dancing in my stomach. So I grab the camera and try to entertain myself taking some pictures of me standing in front of the mirror. The lighting is dim in this room so can’t get a decent shot, but I keep trying as the only thing to do to kill some of the waiting time. But time still goes by and the expected knocks on the door refuse to present themselves. Instead the clock keeps its immutable march, laughing at my intentions and desires.

One hour after the agreed time I must admit he’s not coming. Maybe he encountered a problem; maybe he decided not to show up; maybe he forgot, or maybe he’s somewhere else laughing at the whole situation and never really intended to meet, who knows.

So slowly I put my clothes on, collect my stuff and walk out the door. I take a last glance to the room that could have been the place for an adventure of the heart; the bed that could have been the place for the body and skin to experience one of the pleasures of life; yet decided not to be so.

Walking the night in search for a coffee shop to have some warm drink and a cigarette, surrounded by people but still alone; to reflect in the adventures that we all live in life, even if they go in the direction we wanted or not. There will be another time, and there will be someone else, so there’s no need to worry or be mad, just let the time flow by as it knows so well how to do it, and life will be bright once more.

Angela