Have you ever had relations with an ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend? Whether you answered “yes” or “no,” it remains a hard “no” for me. Like, really hard.
Awhile back, I received a text message from an ex-girlfriend of mine. Yes, we still talk sometimes because we’re still “friends” because I’m an idiot. Anyway, it was a Friday night and she asked what I was doing. I didn’t have any plans (clearly, this says a lot about me), so we decided it’d be cool to get together. We agreed that we didn’t really want to go out and that we would watch a movie and split a bottle of wine at her house. In other words, this shit was going down.
I quickly showered and got dressed, patting on some cologne to get the feeling right. I stole/borrowed two — count ‘em, two! — condoms from my brother because I’m a #wildcard like that.
Side note: I had to take them from my brother because 1. the girls I have sex with don’t make me wear condoms because 2. these girls exist only in my head.
I ran downstairs and grabbed my keys, noticeably ecstatic. My mom caught me before I left and asked where I was going. “GONNA HAVE EX-SEX!” was my response. I made sure I got the cheapest wine I could find: a bottle of cabernet sauvignon out of my parents’ liquor cabinet for a total of $0.00.
I made it to my ex-girlfriend’s house in record time, sporting a stupid fucking grin on my face for the duration of the drive. After giving my little buddy a quick pep talk, I approached her house and knocked on the door.
Her family was happy to see me, and I talked to her mother and father for a little bit before we descended into the basement, soon to become a sanctuary for the refugee that was my sex life. My ex-girlfriend and I chatted a smidgen, and then we chose a movie to watch. We were both on the same page, not wanting anything too serious or scary, so we decided on a lighthearted comedy that we had both already seen.
Before we knew it, the wine was finished and the movie was over. The night had unfolded according to plan… Except our clothes were still on. And she was talking about how she was still in love with her ex-boyfriend (the one immediately after me). And my grin was gone.
Turns out we weren’t on the same page after all. We were in two completely different books — hers ending with tears and “You’re a good guy, Ryan,” and mine ending with… Well, still tears but “I forgot how average you were, Ryan.”
After I deemed the torture too much to bear, I realized she was in the same situation I was in a few years back. But now she was me and this other guy was her. And I didn’t feel bad at all.
“It just sucks when you still feel a certain way about somebody and they don’t even care,” she said.
“Weird. I wouldn’t know what that’s like,” I replied.
Needless to say, my brother got his two condoms back. Stella got her groove back. And, although I didn’t get the chance to get my hate-****ing on, I feel like I got my mojo back that night.