Invincible

There's just something about airport bars that make you... real. Ironically, they ground you. They bring out all your vulnerabilities, your honesty. Maybe it's because you realize how big this world actually is, how many things are happening now as we speak, how many people are traveling miles and miles away from home.

Home.

You call home.

Or what you feel is home.

So there you are somewhere on this planet, at a airport bar drinking and calling me. And here I am, miles and miles away, pouring myself a drink and joining you over the phone line, just for a little while, before you catch your flight.

You tell me where it hurts.

I tell you where it hurts.

You laugh.

I laugh.

You tell me you love me.

I say I love you too.

And while in different continents and time zones, we arrange a rain-check sometime somewhere far far away, like that other time we did just that and it was awesome.

You and me, a hotel bar, a couple of drinks, and all the truths we're afraid to admit to the rest of the world that sees us and thinks we are invincible.