The Hotel Room

I didn't think I was going to participate in the Sunday Scribble this week, but then this thought unfolded in my head and thought it went well with this weeks topic. This story is dedicated to T who always loved a good hotel story.

This is where we said goodbye
you and I.

Under the covers of the worn hotel sheets, our hands searching for something to hold onto before we left. Could we hold that last touch, would our hands remember how the curve of the face felt cusped in the palm, or would the nose remember the sweet sent of overheated bodies and cheap hotel shampoo lingering in the hair? Knowing these were our last hours together, we stared in each others eyes in silence, long since passing the early times of togetherness where words were needed to glue the time between us. You were the only one who could hold my gaze and read exactly what I thought in my eyes. Speaking by seeing was our secret language.

Under hotel sheets and bad lighting, we knew our time just had to go, while I let you go without me. We were so proud that we knew our worlds were too different to combine. We were so sure that in time, we would grow to not like each other, because we were really different people. I started watching Lost in Translation while you brushed your teeth and dressed, while you finished the movie when I brushed my teeth and dressed. We smiled because none of this time was lost to us, knowing completely the plot line in our lives, it was simply time to move on.

Your last words to me before we closed the door was, "We should keep the plastic keys in our wallets until we can’t remember why they are there anymore." I nodded, kissed you, and we said goodbye with our eyes, as we left the hotel room.