I lie awake, dreaming with eyes half closed. The sounds of the branches scratching the window, the cold air seeping through a tiny crack in the window pane while my space heater blasts a bit of home in my face. I tell myself that it’s time to go home for a while but those planes are so far away. It weighs on my heart that I am missing so much, though I know not much has changed since I left. The best that I can do is walk those miles while I lie awake dreaming of a café con leche and croquetas de jamón, giant hot dogs and Red wine. I dance the wrong steps to my favorite salsa songs.