Enveloped by ice, and stranded at a grand hotel, I haunt empty hallways with an extra day in Dallas, somewhere in the middle of a sprawling country. In a dim corner, I sit and write letters as dusk approaches. Now and then one of the hotel staff ambles idly by with a nod or a polite Hello. Over the speakers, this song comes on:
When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
My heart is drenched in wine
But you’ll be on my mind
Forever
When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
My heart is drenched in wine
But you’ll be on my mind
Forever
While happiness will always be a hotel for me, there’s a bit of melancholy that seeps into such a transient world. As I sat alone on a couch, looking out onto the gray world, I thought of the people who traveled through the space. Some were stuck an extra day, like me, biding time until the way back home was clear. Some were at the height of their weekend getaways, giddily coasting on the freedom that vacation affords. Some were merely working, trudging through their work day while mustering the courtesy to say Hello to a lonely guy writing letters above the lobby.
Out across the endless sea
I would die in ecstasy
But I’ll be a bag of bones
Driving down the road alone
My heart is drenched in wine
But you’ll be on my mind
Forever
So far from home, so far from my heart, yet somehow so safe in my solitude. How strange the way time alone can change things, and heal things. Sometimes we all need that.
Something has to make you run
I don’t know why I didn’t come
I feel as empty as a drum
And sometimes we need a little bit more.
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