four walls

sometimes, the worse thing about having all the best things is nobody to share it with. all alone in this room, in a swanky hotel with a balcony that overlooks the pool and the straits a few miles further out.

so here i am. all alone on this island. in this room, which is wasted on me, myself and i. one thing i dislike about planning months ahead. life never takes into account that shit happens. and when shit happens, i guess we all just make do, move on and let the plans that you have already set in motion run its course, regardless.

i looked around and pondered. i flipped through the in-house magazine that came with the room. escorts disguise as massage services. i want company but i don’t need it that way. well, not tonight, at least. i rummaged through the mini fridge. the usual fare of tidbits and alcohol. monotony. i guess the only way to cut through this thick silence is to turn on the tv, and so i did. a late night B grade flick which nobody watches stutters to life. a few minutes into the show and i thought: i haven’t been back in almost 10 years and the best i could do is watch tv alone in a hotel room? pathetic.

i sighed and pressed off on the remote. i reached for my phone and picked it up. tap tap tap. my eyes scanned through my contact list for old numbers. i found them, hesitated for awhile and pressed dail on the first one. ringing tone and then a familiar voice picked up. confusion. explanation. laughter.

after a few more calls and call backs, it seems i won’t be spending much of my time here alone after all.

so i guess it’s good to be home after all.

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