Last Hope Motel: Room for Two.

Back then, when we married -even before- when we where hanging out, he always used to hold my hand. No matter where we went, no matter where we were, with friends or all by ourselves, he'd always hold my hand. Now he's just a shape beside me. I think I don't love him anymore and it doesn't even make me sad. Is this what hate is all about?

I don't know for how long I can take it. "This is our last chance, to make things right, to go back to what we used to be", she said while making the reservations to this motel we're heading. "It'll be our second honey moon, it'll be great, you'll see", she continued. Well, the truth is, I can't see anything in this fog. We almost crashed some kilometers back. She stared back at me with judging eyes, like it was all my fault... This place better be a bomb, 'cause I really don't know how long I can take it.

To think we were so happy... what happened? We have a son, he always wanted a boy, now he has it... Isn't that enough? God, what am I thinking... what was I thinking when I decided to come to this place... If he'd just hurry, I feel so uncomfortable in this car.

She's so selfish. She's always expecting something from me; from everyone. I'm the one who has to carry with all the weight of this relationship, of this marriage... That word... its sound is no longer familiar. We've talked about divorce already. And my boy... she wouldn't say it, but she's been clear enough about it: she won't let me have him; I can have everything else, the house, the car, whatever I want, but not him... She might be sitting next to me -quiet and beautiful- looking at the desert through the window, but I can't recognize her anymore, she's like someone else... and I am so lonely right now...