Buried

Last night was painful, very painful. I grabbed a few bottles and headed for the outskirts of Vegas - I just wanted to get away from all the revelry. Before I started walking, I scribbled the two letter state abbreviation from my old state back east on a piece of paper and put it in my pocket. I got far enough away from town and sat down and started drinking, trying not to recall 6 years ago. I started digging in the sand and when I'd gotten deep enough I put the piece of paper in. I was, for all intents & purposes, burying my past. If only it were so easy.

The nights here in Vegas can get cold, so I finished my bottles and headed back to town. Unfortunately for me I didn't have a watch on, otherwise I would've stayed where I was. I made it back to the outskirts before midnight and I saw the fireworks go off. As loaded as I was, I still knew what was happening and what time it was. I couldn't help but drop to my knees in the sand. If it would've been concrete I probably would've broken both kneecaps.

I wailed like a new born for a few minutes and managed to find my feet. And for as numb as I thought I was, the pain was still there. It's hell living a nightmare when you're wide awake - much less asleep. There's no escape 24 hours a day, and no rest.

I made no resolutions this year. There's simply no point. The only thing I can hope for this year is that I won't be around to repeat the same process next New Year's Eve.