The Morning After: Unsuccessfully Forgetting the Ex

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[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though some are way more disturbing than others) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

I was in a new college town and my roommate just got her fake ID in the mail. Coincidentally, I had also just told my ex I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I needed to stop thinking about him all the time if we weren’t going to be together. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

I think we can all agree that when we need to heal/forget/not think about someone, there is no better cure than alcohol. Bring on the cherry vodka and Coke! Taio Cruz? Check. Smoky, not black eye? CHECK.

I grabbed K. after pre-gaming and we headed for the first bar we could find.

It was hot and packed – perfect for a girl who just wanted to forget about her ex. The second we walked in, the guys started staring. We blew past them because K. and I already knew what we wanted. This bar’s specialty was the Holy Grail of mixed drinks. In one tall glass, there were more types of alcohol than I could even think of in my near-intoxicated state.

I ordered two drinks with the goal of the night in mind: STOP thinking about the ex.

By the time I downed the first, I’d already settled on a target. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair, and gorgeous hazel eyes. He passed by and I winked (okay fine, I gawked a bit the first time). To my relief, he passed by a second time. I smiled at him. He couldn’t miss that even if he wanted to. And yes, my instincts were right! He walked by yet again, giving me the eyes. At this point, I was halfway through the second drink and I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I mouthed “Hi” to him and (if this word did not exist before, now it does) sex-ggestively attempted to suck on my straw. This time around he started to talk.

It turned out to be one of those conversations where you feel like you’re getting smile wrinkles from laughing so much. Niklas was funny and freaking adorable. I also love athletic guys, and he played on his college’s soccer team. (Side note: with all of the hype over the World Cup lately, soccer boys must be getting more now than they ever have… at least in the last four years.) Amazingly enough, he had a German accent but could also speak French. Ahhh, that was the deal breaker! I’m a sucker for accents.

My roommate was busy laughing with a group of boys (she woke up to, like 3,435 text messages from boys she had apparently given her number to), so Niklas and I made our way to a corner to have a little alone time. Read: suck face. Eventually, I suggested we take it outside. We then proceeded to makeout on the sidewalk outside the bar, which turned into an entire campus makeout tour. We kissed our way through the graduate center, gym, football stadium, a random dorm, a dining hall… ohhhh, how I had been craving this! We ended up all over each other on the grassy field in the center of campus for awhile, which is when a cop decided to stop by and ask if I was okay. I laughed, got up, and said “Yeah, thanks!” We waved goodbye to the cop as he drove away and Niklas gave me a piggy back ride to our next random makeout location on campus.

It was tipsy chemistry one only dreams about. When I was about to suck his lip, he went for mine first. I silently thanked the powers that be for hot German foreign exchange students that know how to kiss well. At 4am, he finally decided to go home. I ascended the stairs to my room, exhausted but happy.

I woke up the next morning with grass stains on my shirt, and a major lack of hangover. (I think I must have worked it off with my campus tour). K. was already up and we immediately began recapping the night. Somehow (probably due to extreme amounts of vodka) she didn’t remember what Niklas looked like, so I closed my eyes and described him.

“6’2”, tanned skin, dark, curly-ish hair, brown-green eyes, perfect lips…” I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.

When I opened my eyes, K. was staring at me strangely.

“Whoa. For a second I thought you were describing your ex.”

FML. She was right. I suddenly realized he was exactly the same as the ex I had been trying to forget about! The height, the eyes, the hair, the chemistry, the sense of humor… even their majors were the same! Yes, I had just drunkenly spent the night canoodling with the European version of my ex. UN-freaking-BELIEVABLE! Naturally, I spent the rest of the day eating ice cream while laying in the fetal position in my bed. How could that happen? What was wrong with me? WOULD I EVER BE ABLE TO MOVE ON?!

Niklas texted me later in the day, but I ignored it.
I’m definitely not about to date my ex again, sexy German accent or not.

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