Place Your Bets - A Monologue

Megan, a twenty-nine year old woman, sits alone at a blackjack table in Vegas. It is just her and the dealer. In front of her are two tens.

I should split the tens. Right? Of course you can’t tell me that. But I know it. (She points to a camera.) They know it too. I should split the tens.
Or, I can play it safe and face you with the twenty. That’d be safer right? You have a six. You have to hit, even if you have a ten. You can’t stand on sixteen.
I always play it safe.
It’s my best and worst quality.
You can count on me to show up.
But will I ask you to go with me?
No. No way. Too risky. What if you say no? Then I’m humiliated.
It’s left me… unsuccessful. But not a failure. Alone- but not lonely. But why take the risk? Why should I split the tens?
Greater return. Greater loss. I could lose twenty. I could gain forty. What to do?
The reason I’m here alone is because I didn’t ask someone to come with me. Too risky. What if he said no? Then I’m still alone, but humiliated. Now, I could’ve gained a companion, someone I enjoy spending time with coming on this trip with me- I’m aware of that. But was the potential loss of pride worth the potential gain? I don’t know. I do know. You know, they know, we all know.
It is the elephant in the room as my best friend called it.
And I was all stressed out, wondering what to do and how to ask, and then I just… didn’t. Now this would be the perfect solution, if the other person is completely oblivious and doesn’t care one way or the other, but I think he expected an invitation. So what was so supposed to make everything easy made everything much worse, and how can I explain myself without looking like a complete fool- how do I say would you like to come with me to Vegas without acknowledging that maybe, just maybe he doesn’t want to and hates that I asked?
Am I crazy?
Or is it time to split the tens?