No Way Back

Lately, I've been
Livin' in my head
The rest of me is dead,
I dying for truth...

Pleased to meet you take my hand,
There is no way back from here,
Pleased to meet you say your prayers,
There is no way back from here,
But I don't care,
No way back from here.-- No Way Back, Foo Fighters

McCarran Airport is like the rest of Vegas, bright, shiny and in no way connected to the real world. I pace the length of baggage claim area waiting for her to arrive, checking the blue screens announcing flight arrivals again and again. I am nervous and though I have the number of her flight written in ink on the inside of the tip of my middle finger, I still can't help feeling like I'm waiting for the wrong flight to arrive.

Show girls dance above me on giant big screen projectors. From advertisements along the walls, Chris Angel looks down on me with his signature stare; The Killers, Santana and a number of comedians battle him for the attention of the newly arrived.

When she arrives, I watch as she walks toward the baggage carousel in a tight brown shirt and jeans. She has a confident stride and does not waste time looking this way or that for me. I come up close beside her. I hug her tight and some of my apprehension melts away.