Musician at the Comfort Inn

I missed you there, and thought you were there for me. Then I knew, for certain, but I was too upset to go back and find out more.

You have dark brown-medium brown hair, good looking, with a maroon, small, carry on bag with a pull stick thing.

I know you are a musician and that's all and I saw you staring at me and pacing, and staring, and pacing, like you wanted to say something but you thought you'd have more time because you thought I'd checked in.

Then I left, and I drove away. I made a U-turn and as I pulled up again to then turn around, you came out of the doors and stared at me. I should have met you, but someone else or you, happen to read my blog, so you know how to find me if you want to talk to me.