Night time out of my window

Its late here, my preferred time of day. The hum and rush of the town and the noise of chattering, traffic and talking have subsided now. International lorries go past my window with a hum that builds and fades off as they turn the corner up from my house.
My windows are eyes to the world, perhaps a world that these eyes open to only at night, the night is for dreaming for impossible things and I seem to find myself sitting on the window sill with window open staring out and listening for the impossible and pondering the improbable and play moment over and over in my head. The hum of another lorry and rush of a car pass me.
Outside my window I see the bright green and white of a bank sign across the road. I see the mournful orange tinged street lamps below me and I look at the vividness of the empty street they shine down on. Sometime I think the silence almost has a weight, a thickness and a blanketing calm. Another car rushes past.
This is my preferred time of day. I can think those thoughts I save for the unbroken silence, I pose questions in my mind that will never be answered and I think about times when I was the happiest. So I look out my window hoping to see something that will never come and to hear something that will never be said... Hope must be a genetic flaw I have in abundance.
I have my mum and dad visiting at me the moment and it is lovely to see them, but I do see the difference more than a year from home has brought me. I have a billion things I should do with work and focus and plan for but of course I cannot, quality time with my family is more important to me emotionally than the reality of what is necessary. We have 10 more days in my small town and I worry how to keep them from being bored, because my all standards, Guinness included, this is the most boring town there is...
I am comfortable with my austere life here, no TV to clutter my brain with, and few possessions lead me to a clearer mode of life, well I am a bit of a bull shit philosopher at times but as unhappy as I sound (sorry readers) I am actually in the right place I think. Though sometimes when I look out my window I wonder if someone else thinks and feels the same things I do... Obi just lonely.