I hate how the room smells like you: Somebody wore your perfume to bed.
You've never been here before, and I've but touched you once since I got here 24 long hours ago.
But I can feel you.
You're ten minutes drive from here; an hour's walk.
A far cry better from the three days drive we live daily.
Three days drive is a long way for a soul to travel.
Ten minutes drive makes it even worse when I can't see you.
I miss you.
I'm in Minneapolis, from about 1315h yesterday afternoon, as my Boeing 737's rubbers screeched and thudded to the runway. I got picked up by my girlfriend's roommate, who I met for the first time 20 minutes after landing. I don't even remember walking through MSP. The last thing I remember was either the peanuts on the previous leg, which unsettled me, or the walk across Denver. We went to her dorms, and I got to see Amber briefly. And met her best friend. And her dorm room. The dorm room was probably the least socially awkward of the lot of them!
Her roommate, the Foreign Exchange Student friend, and I went to the Mall and ate Chinese. After the mall they dropped me off at my hotel room. I left my Moby CD with them, which I now regret, because I miss him. I watched TV, and lazied. I went to bed a midnight, and fought my demons. Woken at 0900 by the tenacious maid. Forgot the DND. Slept until 1200. Since then, done nothing. Possibly meeting the roommate later. Possibly seeing Amber late.
Halfway across the country for possibly.