50 Ways To Leave Your Lover In Las Vegas

It’s a bit before 5am and I’m perched in a booth at the all night Diner in TI with coffee and orange juice.

I love this little diner. It’s fun watching tables of young, intoxicated people loudly sharing their Las Vegas escapades. I’m shamelessly eavesdropping. But is it eavesdropping when I can hear them clearly from two booths over? I don’t think so and their conversation allows me to escape from my own dim thoughts.

I woke up to the sound of packing. He hugs me quickly. I can tell he’s unhappy. Or maybe I’m unhappy at myself for not feeling better. The door snaps after him, a gloomy cloud lingers.

My tight body melts into the sheets. I lay there for a few more minutes trying to breathe through the congestion. I get up and take medicine, trying to ignore the heavy lingering cloud.

This isn’t the first time that a weekend has gone south for me in Vegas. Nor is it the first man I’ve pissed off in Vegas.

Rule Number 234: Do Not Go To Vegas With A Boy.

To be fair I had no idea I would be this sick. Maybe I should have cancelled. Maybe I should have realized there will always be unspoken expectations even if I’m sick as shit and even if we are friends. But I’m a grown ass single woman who doesn’t play well with others when I’m struggling to breathe.

On my way down to coffee I pass an unhappy couple. The wasted woman sprawled on the floor, her shoes scattered haphazardly across the floor (had she thrown them?). The man is clearly sober, he’s leaning against the wall coaxing her, in loud whispers, to get up. He looks at me, embarrassed. I shrug and give him what I hope is my best encouraging smile before ducking into the elevator.

I lean against the bar of the empty elevator closing my eyes, pushing the lobby button, escaping the drama happening on the 35th floor as quickly as the elevator could go.

Shit. Relationships are beyond me. They are messy, filled with drama, and absolutely befuddling. Relationships demand a certain courage and perseverance.

My flight leaves late morning. I can’t wait. I’m tired.

This cold officially kicked my butt. Time to go home.

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