Oh, There I Am

train stations are gateways to places you've never been.

and when it's 4am and you're snoring lightly next to me and i can hear the traffic in the filthy city below me, still not sleeping, i think about the places i've never been. i've never been to florida, arizona, oregon, or south dakota. i have never seen the potato fields in idaho or the alleys of louisiana. i've never been to canada or to mexico. i've never been to europe, asia, or africa. i've never seen the vatican, the eiffel tower, or big ben. i have never discovered new foods in a new place or struggled to follow a foreign language. i've never been to a grand city that someone else considers home.

and as this washes over me, terror grips me as tight as your arm around my naked waist. maybe the cabs down below are content with racing through life but i am not. and the truth is that there was a time when the only place i ever wanted to be was wrapped in your arms. but now i've been there and time is running and trains are running and buses are running and planes are flying but i am laying, laying, laying, next to you in a safe, warm bed.

and that's why you will wake up next to a cold spot, your arm lying on the soft bed, morning light spilling into the window over your dream-addled face. my phone is on the table. my clothing is mostly gone. i am gone. but i have been gone. and i am simply looking. for an adventure. for a new place. for me.

i am on a train. i am going to a place i have never been.