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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.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org or click for more details.