Vegas: where everybody folds for love
My boyfriend and I recently took a trip to Las Vegas. It was never somewhere I particularly wanted to visit--or it wasn't very high on my list, anyway. But he got a hotel deal through work, so we booked our plane tickets and headed out west.
I was expecting to be shocked, disgusted, and disturbed by most of what I saw in Vegas. But after our 4 day trip, I left with wonderful memories of a fairly relaxing trip that ended up being a sweet time for our long distance relationship. In fact, by the time we parted ways in the airport to go back to our respective homes, hundreds of miles apart, I couldn't manage to wipe the smile off my face. Vegas itself had little to do with that smile; rather, our vacation had given Tim plenty of opportunities to show me how much he loves me--and he had shown up with fireworks every time.
I don't think Vegas is very romantic. Sure, there are some romantic things to do there, but you have to dodge strip club tickets and sidewalk show girls on the way to your fancy dinner or evening show. There is an incredible amount of people that you are having to maneuver around, and holding hands becomes more of a chore (1. because of sweat and 2. because you have to unlock hands every two minutes to get around the hoards of people) than a comfortable and loving way to walk with each other. Drinking on the street is legal on The Strip, so you're also walking into those special people who have been holding a drink non-stop since they walked out of the hotel brunch at 10 this morning. Then there are the random salespeople who try to sell you entrance to their club, their party, their wedding chapel. We got stopped by one man whose question to us was, "Are you two married...or just holding hands?" We didn't wait around to hear what he would have offered us, since we didn't exactly fit into either of those categories. But in Vegas, those seemed to be your options. And if you aren't married, they would say, there's a great chapel around the corner! Thanks, but no thanks.
We've been together for two-and-a-half years, and this is our first "big" or maybe "adult" vacation. So a small part of me (that seemed to get a little bigger the more I thought about it) guessed that maybe he would propose. We had a belated birthday/date night planned for our first night; get dressed up, go out for a nice dinner, go see Cirque du Soleil. It seemed like a good a time as any, but there was no proposal. I told Tim later, at the end of our trip, that I thought he might ask. He smiled a little, shook his head, and said sweetly, "Leslie, Vegas is not the place."
So, he didn't propose. But he definitely made sure I felt loved and adored throughout our trip. I never expected Vegas to be a place where I could be more sure of his feelings for me than ever, but that's exactly what happened. Here are 7 ways that I was reminded I was loved (in Vegas):
1. He took me to see Cirque du Soleil. Maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal to most people, but Tim does not particularly enjoy shows like this. He isn't one of those guys who just "appreciates the arts" because that's what you're supposed to do. I can't convince him to love Broadway plays, although he's taken me to one before. I haven't taken him to a ballet yet--but give me time. I knew he would enjoy O more than he thought he would, but I also knew that it wasn't in his top priorities of things to do in Vegas. Regardless, he bought the tickets as my birthday present, and he made the night both special and memorable. And I'm convinced he enjoyed the show much more than he will admit; at the very least, he enjoyed watching me light up over it.
2. He paid a little extra for his plane ticket (and woke up at 3 in the morning) so we could fly to Vegas together. Going on a vacation together just isn't the same when you have to meet each other in the destination. His layover was at my airport, and we were able to catch the same flight to Vegas. Expertly planned. Totally unnecessary. Worth it.
3. He paid for things. Vegas is expensive. So is dating. We've never been the couple that has a "rule" about who pays or who doesn't pay; we just kind of go with the flow and see what happens. Most often, though, he pays. I didn't expect him to pay for all of our meals or adventures in Vegas, because I don't expect that in every day life. But he paid for almost everything. And when I offered to pay for breakfast one morning, he was pleasantly surprised and said, "are you sure?" I was sure. I needed a turn to bless him!
4. He took "selfies" and other ridiculous pictures with me. I love pictures. If you're Facebook friends with me or follow me on Instagram, you know that already. If pictures were a love language, my love language would be pictures. Tim could have gone the entire Vegas vacation without taking a single photograph and would have been perfectly fine. But, he has the privilege of having a girlfriend who is entirely the opposite and wants a photograph of every moment. I also have an extreme fear of asking people to take my picture. These two things do not go together very well (hence the selfies). I conquered my fear once, and he took care of it the other few times. I also used anything I could find in the Valley of Fire as a tripod stand-in (rocks, information boards, etc.), which didn't always work. And he stayed patient. He would roll his eyes a little, but he loved watching me fiddle with the camera, try to balance it perfectly on the rock, run quickly back to him and trip every single time, climb up the rocks like a monkey until finally BOOM, kiss, click. Check the picture. Blurry. Try again. Pleeeeease. Just one more time. Oops. One more time. Once more? All right. I give up. Oh, new spot! Let's try it here. Ah, perfection.
5. He rode in a fake gondola with a fake gondolier with a fake Italian accent in fake Venice. He literally only did this because he loves me. I don't even have to explain that one, but there is a selfie to prove that it happened.
6. He let me rest when Vegas beat me up. Vegas beat me up. After our first night, during which I wore wedges (again Tim's suggestion--"don't wear heels; you'll regret it later) and walked over a mile, I had acquired a collection of blisters on the bottom of my feet. By our last night there, the blister on one of my heels was so deep and so painful that I couldn't put pressure on it, making walking a little bit difficult. I felt absolutely ridiculous, and wanted it to go away so that we could properly enjoy our last night in Vegas. But the poking, prodding, and bandaids weren't helping. I also had chafing on my legs thanks to the extreme desert heat + denim shorts. I wasn't miserable, but I was in pain. So, Tim just let me relax and figure out what I was going to be comfortable doing. He was even open to just staying in our hotel and ordering room service, until we called and found out it was too late. So we ventured out to a nearby hotel and ate at Gordon Ramsey's flashy burger restaurant. Then we came back to the hotel, turned on the tv, and promptly fell asleep. I felt pretty bad that our last night in Vegas consisted of eating and sleeping, but he just made the best of it, enjoyed his delicious dinner, and made sure I knew he loved me before I fell asleep. He might have cared that we weren't going out with a bang, but he didn't let me know that. As far as I could tell, he was happy and content that I was happy and content, and not walking around in pain. I was thankful, in those moments, to have a man who was more concerned with me than he was with having a good time in Vegas. I felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude for this man who loves me so well.
7. He told me. There's a concept: telling someone how you feel. Second only to my picture love language is Words of Affirmation, which I'm sure I developed somewhere in between my avid reading as a child and my English major in college. Words mean a lot to me, and I can remember words that people say to me for an incredibly long time. Sometimes I remember painful words, but often I remember kind and affirming things that have been said to me. Tim is one of those guys who has never had trouble telling me how he's feeling--whether it's frustrated, confused, happy, excited, or in love. Even before we took the step of saying "I love you," he was still able to articulate the various emotions he was experiencing in our relationship. And when we finally did say "the 'L' word," over a year into our relationship, I knew exactly what we meant when we said it. A year later and I still nearly melt every time he tells me he loves me (this plus the 110+ degree heat in the desert meant I was basically a puddle the entire time we were in Vegas). There was no shortage of his declarations in Vegas, even when I was being a total loser and keeping him from doing anything exciting on his last night in Sin City.
Vegas might not be the most romantic place I've ever been, but Tim is the most romantic guy I've ever known. Not because he buys me flowers or does the best birthday presents or takes me on fun vacations--although he does all of those things. He's the most romantic guy I've ever known because he never lets me wonder how he feels about me. He always makes sure that I know I am loved.
The most amazing part? His love for me points me back to Jesus. Jesus is the reason that we are able to love and to be loved. The love that we give and receive on this earth is only a microscopic glimpse of the love that God has for us. The "sacrifices" that Tim made in Vegas pale entirely in comparison to the Ultimate Sacrifice that Jesus made for us when He laid down His life and took on all of our past and future sin. And yet it is this sacrifice which allows me to experience love every single day.
Vegas is a place that makes you aware of the desperation of people. Of our insatiable desire for more. We were created for more, but we are also soiled by sin, so our desire for more turns into wanting more of the stuff here instead of wanting more of God. I'm no better or worse than the people addicted to gambling. I'm no better or worse than the people handing out strip club tickets to the thousands of men who pass by. And I'm definitely no better or worse (maybe a little worse) than the people who dress up as every character you can imagine, stand out in the outrageous heat for hours, do silly little dances, and try to collect tips from passerby just so they can make it in this crazy town. But Jesus died for everyone of these people. For the gambler, the stripper, the overheated Minion, the girl and boy who are in Vegas just to get away from their normal. We're all the same, really. When it comes down to it, when the costumes are taken off and the money runs out and the lights go down, the one thing any of us ever really want is to be loved...isn't it?
Thanks for reading,
Leslie
I was expecting to be shocked, disgusted, and disturbed by most of what I saw in Vegas. But after our 4 day trip, I left with wonderful memories of a fairly relaxing trip that ended up being a sweet time for our long distance relationship. In fact, by the time we parted ways in the airport to go back to our respective homes, hundreds of miles apart, I couldn't manage to wipe the smile off my face. Vegas itself had little to do with that smile; rather, our vacation had given Tim plenty of opportunities to show me how much he loves me--and he had shown up with fireworks every time.
I don't think Vegas is very romantic. Sure, there are some romantic things to do there, but you have to dodge strip club tickets and sidewalk show girls on the way to your fancy dinner or evening show. There is an incredible amount of people that you are having to maneuver around, and holding hands becomes more of a chore (1. because of sweat and 2. because you have to unlock hands every two minutes to get around the hoards of people) than a comfortable and loving way to walk with each other. Drinking on the street is legal on The Strip, so you're also walking into those special people who have been holding a drink non-stop since they walked out of the hotel brunch at 10 this morning. Then there are the random salespeople who try to sell you entrance to their club, their party, their wedding chapel. We got stopped by one man whose question to us was, "Are you two married...or just holding hands?" We didn't wait around to hear what he would have offered us, since we didn't exactly fit into either of those categories. But in Vegas, those seemed to be your options. And if you aren't married, they would say, there's a great chapel around the corner! Thanks, but no thanks.
We've been together for two-and-a-half years, and this is our first "big" or maybe "adult" vacation. So a small part of me (that seemed to get a little bigger the more I thought about it) guessed that maybe he would propose. We had a belated birthday/date night planned for our first night; get dressed up, go out for a nice dinner, go see Cirque du Soleil. It seemed like a good a time as any, but there was no proposal. I told Tim later, at the end of our trip, that I thought he might ask. He smiled a little, shook his head, and said sweetly, "Leslie, Vegas is not the place."
So, he didn't propose. But he definitely made sure I felt loved and adored throughout our trip. I never expected Vegas to be a place where I could be more sure of his feelings for me than ever, but that's exactly what happened. Here are 7 ways that I was reminded I was loved (in Vegas):
1. He took me to see Cirque du Soleil. Maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal to most people, but Tim does not particularly enjoy shows like this. He isn't one of those guys who just "appreciates the arts" because that's what you're supposed to do. I can't convince him to love Broadway plays, although he's taken me to one before. I haven't taken him to a ballet yet--but give me time. I knew he would enjoy O more than he thought he would, but I also knew that it wasn't in his top priorities of things to do in Vegas. Regardless, he bought the tickets as my birthday present, and he made the night both special and memorable. And I'm convinced he enjoyed the show much more than he will admit; at the very least, he enjoyed watching me light up over it.
2. He paid a little extra for his plane ticket (and woke up at 3 in the morning) so we could fly to Vegas together. Going on a vacation together just isn't the same when you have to meet each other in the destination. His layover was at my airport, and we were able to catch the same flight to Vegas. Expertly planned. Totally unnecessary. Worth it.
3. He paid for things. Vegas is expensive. So is dating. We've never been the couple that has a "rule" about who pays or who doesn't pay; we just kind of go with the flow and see what happens. Most often, though, he pays. I didn't expect him to pay for all of our meals or adventures in Vegas, because I don't expect that in every day life. But he paid for almost everything. And when I offered to pay for breakfast one morning, he was pleasantly surprised and said, "are you sure?" I was sure. I needed a turn to bless him!
4. He took "selfies" and other ridiculous pictures with me. I love pictures. If you're Facebook friends with me or follow me on Instagram, you know that already. If pictures were a love language, my love language would be pictures. Tim could have gone the entire Vegas vacation without taking a single photograph and would have been perfectly fine. But, he has the privilege of having a girlfriend who is entirely the opposite and wants a photograph of every moment. I also have an extreme fear of asking people to take my picture. These two things do not go together very well (hence the selfies). I conquered my fear once, and he took care of it the other few times. I also used anything I could find in the Valley of Fire as a tripod stand-in (rocks, information boards, etc.), which didn't always work. And he stayed patient. He would roll his eyes a little, but he loved watching me fiddle with the camera, try to balance it perfectly on the rock, run quickly back to him and trip every single time, climb up the rocks like a monkey until finally BOOM, kiss, click. Check the picture. Blurry. Try again. Pleeeeease. Just one more time. Oops. One more time. Once more? All right. I give up. Oh, new spot! Let's try it here. Ah, perfection.
5. He rode in a fake gondola with a fake gondolier with a fake Italian accent in fake Venice. He literally only did this because he loves me. I don't even have to explain that one, but there is a selfie to prove that it happened.
6. He let me rest when Vegas beat me up. Vegas beat me up. After our first night, during which I wore wedges (again Tim's suggestion--"don't wear heels; you'll regret it later) and walked over a mile, I had acquired a collection of blisters on the bottom of my feet. By our last night there, the blister on one of my heels was so deep and so painful that I couldn't put pressure on it, making walking a little bit difficult. I felt absolutely ridiculous, and wanted it to go away so that we could properly enjoy our last night in Vegas. But the poking, prodding, and bandaids weren't helping. I also had chafing on my legs thanks to the extreme desert heat + denim shorts. I wasn't miserable, but I was in pain. So, Tim just let me relax and figure out what I was going to be comfortable doing. He was even open to just staying in our hotel and ordering room service, until we called and found out it was too late. So we ventured out to a nearby hotel and ate at Gordon Ramsey's flashy burger restaurant. Then we came back to the hotel, turned on the tv, and promptly fell asleep. I felt pretty bad that our last night in Vegas consisted of eating and sleeping, but he just made the best of it, enjoyed his delicious dinner, and made sure I knew he loved me before I fell asleep. He might have cared that we weren't going out with a bang, but he didn't let me know that. As far as I could tell, he was happy and content that I was happy and content, and not walking around in pain. I was thankful, in those moments, to have a man who was more concerned with me than he was with having a good time in Vegas. I felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude for this man who loves me so well.
7. He told me. There's a concept: telling someone how you feel. Second only to my picture love language is Words of Affirmation, which I'm sure I developed somewhere in between my avid reading as a child and my English major in college. Words mean a lot to me, and I can remember words that people say to me for an incredibly long time. Sometimes I remember painful words, but often I remember kind and affirming things that have been said to me. Tim is one of those guys who has never had trouble telling me how he's feeling--whether it's frustrated, confused, happy, excited, or in love. Even before we took the step of saying "I love you," he was still able to articulate the various emotions he was experiencing in our relationship. And when we finally did say "the 'L' word," over a year into our relationship, I knew exactly what we meant when we said it. A year later and I still nearly melt every time he tells me he loves me (this plus the 110+ degree heat in the desert meant I was basically a puddle the entire time we were in Vegas). There was no shortage of his declarations in Vegas, even when I was being a total loser and keeping him from doing anything exciting on his last night in Sin City.
Vegas might not be the most romantic place I've ever been, but Tim is the most romantic guy I've ever known. Not because he buys me flowers or does the best birthday presents or takes me on fun vacations--although he does all of those things. He's the most romantic guy I've ever known because he never lets me wonder how he feels about me. He always makes sure that I know I am loved.
The most amazing part? His love for me points me back to Jesus. Jesus is the reason that we are able to love and to be loved. The love that we give and receive on this earth is only a microscopic glimpse of the love that God has for us. The "sacrifices" that Tim made in Vegas pale entirely in comparison to the Ultimate Sacrifice that Jesus made for us when He laid down His life and took on all of our past and future sin. And yet it is this sacrifice which allows me to experience love every single day.
Vegas is a place that makes you aware of the desperation of people. Of our insatiable desire for more. We were created for more, but we are also soiled by sin, so our desire for more turns into wanting more of the stuff here instead of wanting more of God. I'm no better or worse than the people addicted to gambling. I'm no better or worse than the people handing out strip club tickets to the thousands of men who pass by. And I'm definitely no better or worse (maybe a little worse) than the people who dress up as every character you can imagine, stand out in the outrageous heat for hours, do silly little dances, and try to collect tips from passerby just so they can make it in this crazy town. But Jesus died for everyone of these people. For the gambler, the stripper, the overheated Minion, the girl and boy who are in Vegas just to get away from their normal. We're all the same, really. When it comes down to it, when the costumes are taken off and the money runs out and the lights go down, the one thing any of us ever really want is to be loved...isn't it?
Thanks for reading,
Leslie
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