Heartbreak Hotel

The ennui of seeing another Walmart Supercenter, Best Buy, Sonic, McDonalds, chain hotel, motel, restaurant, city, boarded up building, abandoned ghetto, miles of grass and trees, lakes, rivers, oceans. Is all of the U.S. the same? Have I seen too much or am I just going to the wrong places? Just when I start to feel discouraged, we pull in to New Orleans. As incredible and unique as the landscape in Utah is, so is New Orleans as a city. It’s also dangerous. We drink a few Pat O’Brien’s famous hurricanes, vow not to get drunk, and next thing I know we’re at a gay strip club and Jack is dancing in his J.Crewsies on the bar, men stuffing wads in to his pants. I am a forceful pimp, “You only made $10 on this round! Go back and do another!” Then we flaunt our earnings in the street, and all $80 gets stolen from my purse amidst my oblivion. Fortunately though, Jack saves me from going home with a fat Southern guy and a little dyke with black hair and two lip rings (and of course lots of shame).

I try talking to Nathanial on this trip but everytime we talk, we fight, until finally he won’t answer my calls and simply writes, “I need a break nicole, I’m here for you but I just don’t have it in me. Do as you wish I can’t fight anymore. I can’t do it I’m sorry.” I’ve never had someone fight for me so much as a guise of fighting for themselves. It doesn’t help that all Jack plays is mushy ass depressing love songs: “No I can’t stop loving you,” and some shitty Mariah Carey song about knowing she needs to fly.

This breaks my heart. I drink 5-hour energy drink and my stomach is turning. I don’t think I can do this without him, life, New York, this blog, grad school, but I have to. “I guess you showed me what I always knew,” I write, “That I’m unlovable the way I am.”
“You are very lovable just as you are,” he responds, “I just need a break.”