Five Stories: Hooking Up With My Ex

Nerve readers share their stories of tender and not-so-tender reconciliation.

I met Ivy at a party where everyone was eating a lot of ecstasy and grinding to Hunky Dory. She was Filipino — barely five feet tall, with huge green eyes and a wide, knowing smile that remains burned into my memory. We'd been dancing, and tumbled onto a couch to make out during "Oh! You Pretty Things." This was our introduction.

Some relationships are more about the physical than anything else. This was definitely one of them. I liked Ivy, and she liked me, but we didn't care for each other's friends, and our interests only intersected in the broadest sense. Also, she "brokered" ecstasy (her word, not mine — she didn't deal, but she could connect you to a lot of people that did), which meant that our frequent and intense intimate moments were usually chemically-tinged. 

We got into a weird cycle where we would eat some E and then sleep together.

This got to be more of a problem when we broke up. I remember Ivy citing several reasons during the rambling initial conversation: I wasn't religious enough, I wasn't "interested" enough, and I didn't like Nip/Tuck. But I had to keep getting E from her — my friends didn't care how "awkward" things were, and the pills were great. She didn't really seem to care, but we got into a weird cycle where we would cordially settle the "business" end, eat some E, and then sleep together. I don't think this impacted either one of us emotionally, and we did stop interacting socially, so maybe it doesn't count as "getting back together," but this little arrangement went on for months before I decided I was doing too many drugs and needed a little distance.

We went out to dinner and I told her I needed a break from her, physically and pharmaceutically. She (rather clinically, I thought) told me that was a good idea for both of us but that she would miss having "such a fun roll buddy." Then she suggested we go back to her place, and pressed a pill into my hand as we got into the cab. She put on Hunky Dory as we pinballed around her apartment making out, before slipping under the sheets one last time. I still smile when I hear "Oh! You Pretty Things."


Submit to our next round-up: New Year's Hookups. Throw out the old and bring the new into bed, right? Yeah, we know you're thinking it. Send your greatest stories of New Year's romance in 300-500 words to or click for more details.

Commentarium (6 Comments)

Dec 08 11 - 9:31am

Ah man, if the call for these stories had come six months from now I might've had something really special to share.

These are all really good though. Enjoyed each and every one of them. Complex subject and fittingly complex emotions for the stories about it.

Dec 08 11 - 1:29pm

A little background: in high school, five of my friends died in drunk driving accidents. Another of my close friends is missing a large chunk of intestines from when a drunken lady friend wrapped them both around a telephone pole in his camaro. My grandfather and my father are both inveterate alcoholics--I wrote my grandfather out of my life after he left me stranded at a debate competition, he was on his way to pick me up when he was pulled over and arrested for driving drunk. To say I'm a little paranoid about drunk driving is putting it lightly: I won't drive after having had a even a single beer, and I'm leery of letting any of my friends drive after drinking, even if they're probably under the legal limit. I drink like a fish though, and I have no problems with boozing or drug use as long as there's no driving involved. Summer into junior year of college, I dated a townie named "Tom". We had met at work three years prior, but both of us had always been in a relationship and then he transferred to a different location. That summer, I ran into him on campus and we started hanging out... and by hanging out, I mean the first night we spent together ended up being in my bed as we talked and made out until dawn. We didn't actually have sex until two months later, but our relationship was crazy intense, at least for me. Things changed gradually and Tom seemed more interested in partying with my friends than in just hanging out, but whatever. One thursday night, Tom was hanging out at my house as the 7 other people I lived with got ready to head out to the bars for the night. I lived with all seniors, so they didn't really have any work to speak of. On the other hand, I had an intense assignment due the next day at 8am. Tom pouted and wanted to go out, I shrugged and told him to go have a good time--I had homework to do anyways. I had one condition : come back after the bar so we fuck. Sexin' is a major source of stress relief for me. Apparently, my friends gave Tom an intense amount of shit all the way to the bar for ditching me to hang out with them... none of them particularly liked him. Tom got angry, came back to the house, got his car, and went home. I finished my project at around 2 am. Bars close at 1 around here, but it's not uncommon for people to head out to house parties after. One by one my room mates straggle home, but no Tom. I'm getting increasingly worried about him. I texted him, no response. It's 4 am. It's 5 am. It's 6 am. There's no answer. Tom was a heavy drinker and prone to starting shit when drunk. I was freaking out. I called the nearest local hospitals, and then I called the drunk tank in my town, and in Tom's. Tom finally gets back to me the next day, says he got mad at my house mates and decided to go home. Even though he parked his car at my house, knew I was expecting him later that night, and was aware of how weird I was about drunk driving, he decided to just disappear. Then he told me I was overreacting and criticized the close friends I lived with for not being nice enough to him. I promptly dumped him. I couldn't go through another night agonizing over whether he was alive or dead, and I refused to stay with a man who didn't care enough about me not to make me worry like that. The next week, he asked if he could come watch walking dead at my house since he didn't have cable at his. We ended up fucking and getting back together. The sex was as good as it had always been, but I didn't trust him anymore and I think he was hurt that I would cut him off so quickly. A week after we got back together, Tom told he was getting off work early and asked if I wanted to see him. I was out with friends, but I said yes nonetheless. Tom worked weekends as a short order cook at a pub near his house, and he was apparently sauced after his shift. He got into a minor accident, it had been raining and after a particularly sharp turn his car spun out into a ditch. Again, I waited all night for him to show up. He didn't, he claimed his phone had died or some such shit and sent me pictures of his car in a ditch. I promptly dumped him again (for good this time). When he picked up his stuff from my house a couple days later, I looked at the bruises on his face and wondered what I had ever seen there.

Dec 09 11 - 5:00pm

Lol @ me for reading this.

Dec 09 11 - 6:47pm
What The Hell???

@Yawn, I second that sentiment. I feel like I should get to lock the OP in a car driven by a drunk for the same amount of time it took me to read this crap!

Dec 08 11 - 1:47pm

love this. all of them

Dec 14 11 - 7:59pm

Man, the last sentence of this is such a beautiful image.