M Street

An excerpt from something...my life or maybe someone elses real or pretend not sure yet...

So there I am. M Street. 2am. Can't sleep. 2:43am and still eyes open. So now I am thinking? Now I am making decisions? A few more hours and I get up. Brush teeth oh wait no toothbrush. That is in my overnight bag which is now inside my car located in the garage of the Ritz Carlton hotel. Well at least my car is sleeping...in style. 3:12am. He is sleeping. I am happy for that fact. He needs it more than I. I want to sleep and yet I can sense that I am not to do so right now in this place, this night, morning. So many things, thoughts, ideas and people are jogging, some sprinting in and out of my head. Like small talk why do people even bother? Is there such a thing as big talk? why so specifically call out mundane conversation with an actual name? It is the only type of conversation with a name. 4am. Are you kidding? Still I am awake? We have to get up at 5am. He to California and I back to Virginia. Less than 24 hours spent in each other prescence and yet I feel miles past better than 5 months with the other. I'm here, lying still, breathing, wide awake, feeling rested for the first time in months. Go back there? I think not. Not for a while. Slip away for a while, take a break. Afterall not why I moved there. 4:15am. I do feel sleepy. He will drive me back to the Ritz. Kiss and hug goodbye. We walked around the capital last night. ate italian, drank vodka with orange slices, red wine and discussed architecture. we walked around georgetown holding hands, laughing at young protestors dressed in black, even the jaggedly cut scarfs attached to their faces were black. Is not the point of protesting is that the oppressor sees you? And then really what are you going to honestly stop or change but your underwear that your mom still buys you? I am drifing off it seems. I will go back to the small town. To trying to bring it all into focus. To drifting close to the bottom. He to fast cars and rubbing noses with the likes of Molly Sims. Until next time when we end up in this place again. It won't necessarily be M street but it will always be. Alarm goes off. 5am. I slept. No dreams. Time for those later.