Heartbreak Hotel
My check-in was uncomfortable, because I have a lot of baggage with me. Suitcases filled with memories and small objects that jog colossal collages of reminiscence. I really wish that I was back home in my bed, our bed, clicking off switches on lamps that that illuminated magic rooms. Now I was standing here in this reception. Not the reception that I thought our relationship would trigger. I was thinking marriage, but I guess my excess baggage was too much for her handle. So instead of soulful singing and champagne bottles setting off like fireworks, I was being greeted by a different kind of receptionist.
She looked at me with comforting eyes from across the counter, while twirling a pen in her hand. I can tell that she hated her job, but it would suffice until she found something better… but hey, isn’t that why we all were here? The lounge was filled with cheap women selling their soul, pride, and body for any means of currency, from money, jewels, or simply… time. Short skirts and cleavage displaying tops were worn by these lost females in attempts to attract a male to take them away from this hotel. You can never advertise lust in hopes of a receipt certifying love. I glanced at these pathetic women briefly, pitying the fact they had less class that senior skip day. But a social status didn’t exist in this cheap hotel; we were all losers, outcast from society.
“Hello Mr. Singleton.” The receptionist greeted. I wondered how she knew my name. Surely she couldn’t have remembered me from my stay a year ago. My puzzled look must have printed confusion on my forehead in Times New Roman, because she continued.
“We received your reservation Sir. It was submitted by a Ms. EX two weeks ago.” I was stunned. I had to grab that counter for stabilization, or else fall back into the arms of the temporarily fixes of love that flooded that lounge. I slowly caught a grasp of my composure and filled out the needed paperwork. My mind couldn’t help but juggle burning thoughts of when, how, and why my Ex would reserve me a room here.
“You know it’s kind of ironic, because she also booked herself a room close to yours. This establishment is far from a honeymoon resort…” the receptionist paused and glanced over my shoulder into the lounge. “But I guess special things can happen here.” I returned her smile with slight genuine as I took my room key from the counter.
“Have a nice stay, even though that may seem to be an oxymoron.” The receptionist said as I walked away. I didn’t even care to look back or acknowledge that I heard her. My mind was busy trying to decide my next course of actions. I wondered if I should go see her, but quickly thought against since she was the sole reason I was here. She caused me to retreat here and added insult to injury by making reservations. But then again, why would she be here, so close to me? If she wanted us to be near then why were we here anyway? Women confused me, but my cousin said it best when he said “Some women like being chased more than they love being caught.”
Even though my room was on the first floor of this 3 story dump, I glanced over at the elevator. There was a sign on it that read “Love has it’s Up’s and Down’s…” It didn’t register at the time because my attention was stolen by a small figure I saw sitting down the hallway. I starred as I got closer trying to see if the image I was seeing was a person or maybe just luggage. I soon realized that I was looking at a person sitting Indian style with their head buried into their lap. From the length of the jet black hair I could distinguish that this person was a female, and I could hear gentle sobs. Echoes of broken hearted tears ricocheted off the hollow walls of the hallway. I slowed my pace taking easy steps like I was prepping to disarm a bomb, or an alligator hunter sneaking on a prize catch. With each step the unidentified person came clear, and within twenty feet I recognized her; it was Ms. Ex. My heart fell out of my chest, but I didn’t have time to pick it up, I had to keep moving. Maybe I could sneak by her and make it safely inside my room. But she was parked right in front of my door.
I stood there for awhile trying to construct my next move. Should I just turn around and go home? How could I when I don’t have a home. This pitiful pile of bricks and faded graffiti casting of a building was the only residence that I’ve ever known. As I was looking at her creating bodies of salt water in her lap, I wondered what she has to be so heartbroken about. I was the one who was laid off when I just starting to think career moves. My contract as a holiday temp was terminated, and I thought I was up for a promotion. I had ambitions of making Partner in her heart’s Law Firm, but I guess I couldn’t pass the bar.
She lifted her head exposing her red eyes, contaminated my infectious tears of guilt and just looked at me. Streams were cascading down her cheeks, and it was weird, because she was looking just how I felt on the inside. I was planning on waiting until I got in my room to release the dams. Her lips were trembling as if the most painful news in the universe was just laid on her shoulder. I remembered those lips… Even in their current state they still appeared luscious, and three second daydreams began of me kissing them again. I snapped back to reality, I think it was reality, and I continued to stare at her starring at me.
“I’m… I’m sorry for I’ve done…” She mumbled. Everything in me wanted me to ask her to repeat herself. But she was sitting there looking so pitiful, so piteous, like a person facing the electric chair pleading to the judge. But who was I to judge? I didn’t want justice. I didn’t seek revenge, because honestly this woman could stand up with laughter and reveal that all of this was a malicious joke of closure… and I would still love her. I guess that’s the meaning of unconditional love.
“What are you sorry about?” I asked knowing the answer; I just needed to hear her say it. Just say it my love and this can all go away. I was prepared to forget that the breakup ever happened. We could TIVO life and rewind back to happy times. Sad… I was developing the forgiveness of a victim of domestic violence; I was staring in a Lifetime movie, perhaps a repetitive character on the Oxygen channel.
“I’m sorry for causing all of this.” She said as she swiveled her head gesturing to the hotel. Her eyes were encumbered with water and it was impossible to see her pupils. Her appearance was fairly spooky, but a cute spooky… a Scooby Doo kind of spooky.
“I really wish there was something I could do to change it, to change this. I want to make things right, but… it’s too late I fear.” She said never breaking eye contact, I think.
“It’s never too late…” I slightly mumbled, half ashamed of my exonerative heart. A part of me wanted to just leave her, like she left me. That small portion of me wanted her to feel the pain I felt, my hearts District Attorney, but if what she was saying and showing was truly authentic, she has served her time. That’s the nonsense I convinced myself to deem.
“Then how? How can I fix this? How can I fix us? How do I delete a foolish, childish, idiotic mistake? Life doesn’t have a Backspace. Once I hit send, and the message was sent, there is no taking that back. You won’t ever forget what I’ve done… I won’t ever forget. But I just wish I could take it back.” She said as she stood up and faced me. She was still beautiful… my heart was building itself back together from the pool of blood that she had left, like a terminator cyborg, or a romantic reptile.
“I forgive you…” I said in a low mumble again. I was still ashamed of my heart, but it was feeling better, blink by blink.
“How? How do we walk away from this?” She said as she stepped closer gently grabbing my hand. She was still peering into my eyes, and my heart was almost at 100%. Love makes you dumb, but strong.
“It’s easy…” I said as I pointed back down the hallway. “We just walk out of the door, and start over.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I should have at least put up a fight, just to appease my ego. But love is stronger than pride, unfortunately.
She never said a word as we walked slowly towards the door. Sure we could’ve have just went to one of our rooms and made up officially, but I wanted to get out of this place. If everything goes right I would never have to return here again; that’s ‘if’.
As we made our way past the lounge I could see the hatred in the eyes of the by standing women. I knew I looked stupid, but I was in love, so that’s acceptable. The receptionist made eye contact shot me a lovely smile. I returned it genuinely this time and kept on walking, hoping that I could get out of the door before Ms. Ex changes her mind. Her palms felt so warm, so comforting, it was as if our hands were molded my God to fit perfectly. I was happy, I was dumb… but I was happy.
As we finally opened the door, the door to the future, a door of bliss, and a start of forever, I heard the receptionist repeat something, “See, special things can happen here…”
She looked at me with comforting eyes from across the counter, while twirling a pen in her hand. I can tell that she hated her job, but it would suffice until she found something better… but hey, isn’t that why we all were here? The lounge was filled with cheap women selling their soul, pride, and body for any means of currency, from money, jewels, or simply… time. Short skirts and cleavage displaying tops were worn by these lost females in attempts to attract a male to take them away from this hotel. You can never advertise lust in hopes of a receipt certifying love. I glanced at these pathetic women briefly, pitying the fact they had less class that senior skip day. But a social status didn’t exist in this cheap hotel; we were all losers, outcast from society.
“Hello Mr. Singleton.” The receptionist greeted. I wondered how she knew my name. Surely she couldn’t have remembered me from my stay a year ago. My puzzled look must have printed confusion on my forehead in Times New Roman, because she continued.
“We received your reservation Sir. It was submitted by a Ms. EX two weeks ago.” I was stunned. I had to grab that counter for stabilization, or else fall back into the arms of the temporarily fixes of love that flooded that lounge. I slowly caught a grasp of my composure and filled out the needed paperwork. My mind couldn’t help but juggle burning thoughts of when, how, and why my Ex would reserve me a room here.
“You know it’s kind of ironic, because she also booked herself a room close to yours. This establishment is far from a honeymoon resort…” the receptionist paused and glanced over my shoulder into the lounge. “But I guess special things can happen here.” I returned her smile with slight genuine as I took my room key from the counter.
“Have a nice stay, even though that may seem to be an oxymoron.” The receptionist said as I walked away. I didn’t even care to look back or acknowledge that I heard her. My mind was busy trying to decide my next course of actions. I wondered if I should go see her, but quickly thought against since she was the sole reason I was here. She caused me to retreat here and added insult to injury by making reservations. But then again, why would she be here, so close to me? If she wanted us to be near then why were we here anyway? Women confused me, but my cousin said it best when he said “Some women like being chased more than they love being caught.”
Even though my room was on the first floor of this 3 story dump, I glanced over at the elevator. There was a sign on it that read “Love has it’s Up’s and Down’s…” It didn’t register at the time because my attention was stolen by a small figure I saw sitting down the hallway. I starred as I got closer trying to see if the image I was seeing was a person or maybe just luggage. I soon realized that I was looking at a person sitting Indian style with their head buried into their lap. From the length of the jet black hair I could distinguish that this person was a female, and I could hear gentle sobs. Echoes of broken hearted tears ricocheted off the hollow walls of the hallway. I slowed my pace taking easy steps like I was prepping to disarm a bomb, or an alligator hunter sneaking on a prize catch. With each step the unidentified person came clear, and within twenty feet I recognized her; it was Ms. Ex. My heart fell out of my chest, but I didn’t have time to pick it up, I had to keep moving. Maybe I could sneak by her and make it safely inside my room. But she was parked right in front of my door.
I stood there for awhile trying to construct my next move. Should I just turn around and go home? How could I when I don’t have a home. This pitiful pile of bricks and faded graffiti casting of a building was the only residence that I’ve ever known. As I was looking at her creating bodies of salt water in her lap, I wondered what she has to be so heartbroken about. I was the one who was laid off when I just starting to think career moves. My contract as a holiday temp was terminated, and I thought I was up for a promotion. I had ambitions of making Partner in her heart’s Law Firm, but I guess I couldn’t pass the bar.
She lifted her head exposing her red eyes, contaminated my infectious tears of guilt and just looked at me. Streams were cascading down her cheeks, and it was weird, because she was looking just how I felt on the inside. I was planning on waiting until I got in my room to release the dams. Her lips were trembling as if the most painful news in the universe was just laid on her shoulder. I remembered those lips… Even in their current state they still appeared luscious, and three second daydreams began of me kissing them again. I snapped back to reality, I think it was reality, and I continued to stare at her starring at me.
“I’m… I’m sorry for I’ve done…” She mumbled. Everything in me wanted me to ask her to repeat herself. But she was sitting there looking so pitiful, so piteous, like a person facing the electric chair pleading to the judge. But who was I to judge? I didn’t want justice. I didn’t seek revenge, because honestly this woman could stand up with laughter and reveal that all of this was a malicious joke of closure… and I would still love her. I guess that’s the meaning of unconditional love.
“What are you sorry about?” I asked knowing the answer; I just needed to hear her say it. Just say it my love and this can all go away. I was prepared to forget that the breakup ever happened. We could TIVO life and rewind back to happy times. Sad… I was developing the forgiveness of a victim of domestic violence; I was staring in a Lifetime movie, perhaps a repetitive character on the Oxygen channel.
“I’m sorry for causing all of this.” She said as she swiveled her head gesturing to the hotel. Her eyes were encumbered with water and it was impossible to see her pupils. Her appearance was fairly spooky, but a cute spooky… a Scooby Doo kind of spooky.
“I really wish there was something I could do to change it, to change this. I want to make things right, but… it’s too late I fear.” She said never breaking eye contact, I think.
“It’s never too late…” I slightly mumbled, half ashamed of my exonerative heart. A part of me wanted to just leave her, like she left me. That small portion of me wanted her to feel the pain I felt, my hearts District Attorney, but if what she was saying and showing was truly authentic, she has served her time. That’s the nonsense I convinced myself to deem.
“Then how? How can I fix this? How can I fix us? How do I delete a foolish, childish, idiotic mistake? Life doesn’t have a Backspace. Once I hit send, and the message was sent, there is no taking that back. You won’t ever forget what I’ve done… I won’t ever forget. But I just wish I could take it back.” She said as she stood up and faced me. She was still beautiful… my heart was building itself back together from the pool of blood that she had left, like a terminator cyborg, or a romantic reptile.
“I forgive you…” I said in a low mumble again. I was still ashamed of my heart, but it was feeling better, blink by blink.
“How? How do we walk away from this?” She said as she stepped closer gently grabbing my hand. She was still peering into my eyes, and my heart was almost at 100%. Love makes you dumb, but strong.
“It’s easy…” I said as I pointed back down the hallway. “We just walk out of the door, and start over.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I should have at least put up a fight, just to appease my ego. But love is stronger than pride, unfortunately.
She never said a word as we walked slowly towards the door. Sure we could’ve have just went to one of our rooms and made up officially, but I wanted to get out of this place. If everything goes right I would never have to return here again; that’s ‘if’.
As we made our way past the lounge I could see the hatred in the eyes of the by standing women. I knew I looked stupid, but I was in love, so that’s acceptable. The receptionist made eye contact shot me a lovely smile. I returned it genuinely this time and kept on walking, hoping that I could get out of the door before Ms. Ex changes her mind. Her palms felt so warm, so comforting, it was as if our hands were molded my God to fit perfectly. I was happy, I was dumb… but I was happy.
As we finally opened the door, the door to the future, a door of bliss, and a start of forever, I heard the receptionist repeat something, “See, special things can happen here…”
You are such a hopeless romantic! I love this, even though I feel like you're going to have some type of twisted plot going on. I can't wait to read more! So hurry:)
ReplyDeletelol this one is dead Kia. If anything, it could mix in with Chasing Carrots. Thanks for reading Hun Bun
ReplyDelete