Going Nowhere

March 5, 2016

I had just begun to go nearly an entire day without thinking of him. Then I would lay down to sleep… I figured I would have to understand that eventually I would see him again. I just never thought I would be looking for him.

 

My sneakers squeaked as I pressed down the carpet along the hotel floor. The tawdry carpeting made my think of an ancient rug you saw nailed to someone’s wall. I never really understood that. A rug was meant to be placed on the floor.

 

The walls ebbed a boring location in a boring state. Yet, this created more emotion than anything I had experienced in these last few months. The cream of the walls reminded me of the fading color of every hotel. The carpet reminded me of the bare wooden floor of my apartment a few thousand worlds away. The scenario behind the door reminded me of everything I had pushed away.

 

Yet, I couldn’t help myself. I was practically jogging down the corridor. My phone was clasped tightly in my hand. My eyes were only searching for the number above the door. My key card was pressed into my other hand.

 

Once I stood in front of room 127, I wasted no time opening the door. The opportunity was laying across my bed. The door shut behind me with a louder sound than I expected. I would have jumped had I not been so focused.

 

I do jump onto my bed, my stomach colliding with the mattress. I let my knees bend, raising my feet and swinging them back and forth with anticipation. I flip my phone open to YouTube, quickly typing in the simple phrase.

 

I wonder how many thousands of people had already seen the video. I wonder if they knew who I was. I wonder if they remembered all of the rumors about Michael and I from nearly two years ago.

 

Of the near 70,000 views, this would be the first time I saw this. I don’t know what he hoped to accomplish through doing this. But whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t go back now.

 

The misery of waiting for the video to load ended with the screams of the crowd. The video shifted all over the place, trying to focus on Michael. He was center stage, settling his acoustic guitar across his lap.

 

The screams nearly drowned him out. He was smiling, waving a hand up as if to wave at the crowd. The section of people must have been exhilarated. He had that effect on people.

 

“Now,” He smiled. “I just want to slow it down a bit.” The crowd ‘awww’s’ at him. He nods and shifts the microphone. “I know, I know, but this is important to me. We’ll pick it back up after this I promise.”

 

The crowd screams in excitement. He can’t contain how content he is. The stage is where he belongs. He looks so comfortable, as if he was playing to my on my couch. He speaks as if he’s talking to an old friend.

 

“Who’s recording this? Raise your hand up if you’re gonna record this.” The crowd reacts immensely to his actions, playing along on every word. The camera shifts again as the recorder screams and plays along. “I want to see this all over tomorrow. I want to see it on YouTube and Twitter and Tumblr. I want it everywhere.” I spreads his hand out over the crowd in comparison. “Can you guys do that for me?”