403.

somethings.

no.

most things, i try

to confront

head-on.

but there are

a few that can

remain buried in

time, not confronted.

but.

sometimes, the choice

is not mine.

like here.

in this place.

i chose to come

here, but…

i tried to avoid

some of it.

but.

four e-mails.

four responses.

“no vacancies.”

a fifth.

“confirmed.”

from the airport

through the narrow streets,

to a place

i could find

with my eyes

shut tight…

when they

gave us one bed,

and it wasn’t

clear to

them why we

needed two,

i simply told

them that one

wouldn’t work.

and i had a feeling.

yes.

it was a feeling,

but it was

intense

and i knew it then.

so we followed

the guy

in the dark green

uniform up the stairs.

and when

he turned left, i knew

what was

going to happen.

there.

on the right,

there it was.

as i stood

in the doorway,

i heard those

pigeons that

kept us up all

night, every night

for nearly two weeks.

i saw the balcony

that looked

liked it would

collapse under

the immense weight,

of us,

(figurative).

and i smelled

the musty smell of

the bathroom, the joints

between the blue tiles

covered in mildew.

and i saw

the look

on your face,

the one that said,

“what the fuck have you gotten me into this time?”

but none

of that happened.

not now.

not today.

it happened

before, yes, in 2004.

in room 403.

yeah.

the exact same

fucking room

where your

child now sleeps…

and i’ve learned again

today that

avoidance is the

thing that brings the

past to the

present, brings the

happy moments

face-to-face with

the last 19 months.

and i’m once

again reminded,

that avoidance is

no way

to deal with this.

so.

after more than

one beer,

and a few moments

of clarity,

and a lot

of writing,

i’m on my way back.

back to that place.

and i’ll put

the key in

the hole,

and you.

you won’t be

be there.

but i’ll feel you.

(again, figurative).

and maybe.

just maybe…

i won’t avoid,

one more thing

that i

don’t want to confront.

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