A Room is still a Room

This room is waiting to be filled. Not with furniture, but with people. Friends perhaps, invited for drinks before walking to the movie house down the street. Intoxicated lovers returning from dinner and dancing. Or, a professional living alone, returning home after a business trip.

I could imagine a man walking into this room after he leaves his bags and raincoat at the door. Fixing himself a drink, loosening his tie and checking his messages. He plops down on the couch and puts his feet up on the table switching on the television. Without caring what's on, he lays his head back, closes his eyes and quietly drifts off to sleep.

I always loved watching people. Riding the subway into Manhattan was exciting. The individuals you encounter on a New York subway are all so varied and interesting. Like this room, I would imagine where people came from, how they lived, or if they had breakfast before they left their homes. Did they have people who loved them, or abused them, or worse yet, did they live alone without anyone to say good morning to them?

There were times in my life when I wanted very much to be on my own. Times when all I could dream about was getting out, and distancing myself from everyone. Today, I prefer to fill my rooms with friends, family, and loved ones. That special someone is always there, real or imagined, filling every room with his energy and passion.

I love my rooms, love the hopes I fill them with and the way they welcome me back each day.