I thought long and hard about the reasons that Mina and I split up and we talked through a lot of them, but they still lingered. Some of the most serious issues she apologized for before we parted ways in Las Vegas, but that didn’t convince me that they wouldn’t happen all over again. The night she left Las Vegas she said “I screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me”, adding a promise that she was going to figure out how to make it all right. I wasn’t sure if that was even possible, but I didn’t have it in me just then to say otherwise.
I spent my last few days in Las Vegas alone, packing and cleaning up the last bits of our life together while she went on to Texas. I spent a lot of time working with Selena, who seemed certain that Mina and I would figure it all out eventually, but I wasn’t so sure.
I considered the idea of what it meant to be single again, but I didn’t really embrace it. Perhaps I wasn’t ready for it or perhaps my heart was still with Mina, but whatever the reason, I turned down offers to spend time with some people because I didn’t want to give anyone the impression that no longer being in a relationship was the same as being available. It also seemed to me after my breakup with Mina that dating anyone that wasn’t in my industry wouldn’t be a good idea, and work was a better distraction anyhow.
It’s been two months since the last time I posted an entry, and I have some catching up to do here. I’ve spent nights in five different states, putting distance between myself and Las Vegas. I needed time to clear my head after everything that happened during my last few weeks there, so I made my way first to California.
Aaliyah and I have been friends for a long time now and so when the opportunity presented itself to get some work together done and get out of Las Vegas, I took it. I spent almost two weeks with her, filming clips, shooting videos for fans and having a bit of fun. We went to Disneyland (I’d never been), ate a ton of sushi and had what felt like one long, candid discussion about our lives and where they were headed. By the time I left California, I felt like our friendship had really grown.
The next stop on my tour was New Orleans. One of my best friends roommates was hiking the Appalachian trail and his room was available for sublet, so I took it. It was good to be back among some familiar faces, though admittedly I laid a little low. I didn’t want to answer too many questions about what had happened with Mina, because we’d started working on mending things and I didn’t want to speak out of turn. People asked me reasonable questions to which I had no definitive answer and I answered in a vague way that was tinted with optimism.
I had different habits in New Orleans this time around; I wanted to see what it might feel like to start over there again, but it’s far too familiar of a place for me to ever really imagine having a fresh start there. I ate at different restaurants, drank at different bars and enjoyed myself, but I was subletting someone else’s space and that just isn’t the same as having a home. Two weeks were how much time I’d allotted myself there and it came to an end quickly.
We’d planned to go to dinner at our favorite restaurant after she finished her last day of work. We were saying goodbye to all the places that we loved before the inevitable separation; a tour of places we’d been happy once. I waited at home for her because she was going to have a goodbye drink with friends after work and would come home to change. I’d gotten food poisoning the night before and I laid down and waited for her as the symptoms got worse. I waited for her text saying she was on her way home, planning to ask her to bring me home something from the pharmacy so I could suck it up and go to dinner. Four hours later I was in even worse condition and I headed to the store myself, not having heard from her. I walked there in a state of delirium, trying to hold myself together as I struggled with illness and the fact that I’d known all along she would stand me up.
It was a half mile there and a half mile home. I thought maybe she’d be there when I got back and that perhaps somehow I’d just been a little impatient. I really wanted that to be the case. She wasn’t there though and when she finally walked in the door it was too late; for dinner, for apologies, for excuses and ultimately it was too late for us. She was intoxicated and belligerent and I realized that she would never be the sort of person I thought I could rely on or ask for help because she is barely capable of taking care of herself, let alone anyone else. Up until then I’d been harboring some hope that perhaps we’d find a way to make it work in the eleventh hour, but I knew that nights like that would be something I’d have to accept if we stayed together. I was angry and I told her she should be embarrassed of herself, but what I really meant was that I was embarrassed of her and I was embarrassed of myself for being in a relationship that felt so frivolous, so meaningless to the person I’d been in it with.