You would think after four-years of alcohol-induced awkward hook-ups and “you’re smarter than this” bad decisions that my first post-grad “relationship” would have been a smart, successful life choice for my future (and my heart and self-esteem).

But apparently I didn’t make enough wrong choices in college! I just had to keep going. So to get to the “horror” part of this story I will have to give you a quick summary of events leading up to the morning of doom.

After a summer of being stuck in my hometown post-graduation day, I realized I wasn’t going to move anywhere anytime soon. A lack of savings and no idea of what I wanted to do with my life left me stalling in my childhood bedroom.   I was hanging out with my old high school friends (those who stuck around), hitting up the local pub (yes, one pub for the whole town) a few times a week, and getting back into some bad habits. It wasn’t the most productive time of my life but looking back, it was chock-full of life lessons. In the midst of the boozing, cruising, and toking I fell hard for an older “Bad Boy.”

One sly look from him sitting outside the pub late one evening smoking a cigarette, sleeves rolled up revealing tattoo covered arms—I was done for. Top that with the fact that he was actually an intelligent human-being with a flair for literature and cooking….yeah you can imagine where this is going.

We started a passionate affair—I threw all my good wisdom of where the relationship could go (nowhere) out the window. It was the talk of the town (it’s not a big town) and eventually (like hours later) his recent ex-girlfriend got wind of “Bad Boy’s” new, hot young thing and she was not happy.

This chick decided to take things like a 16-year-old girl and would gang up on me with her “crew” at the local pub with glaring stares. She also kept hanging out with “Bad Boy’s” friend group—making it difficult for him to move on. Blaring red flags should have been waving in front of me at this point but nope, I just saw sunshine and rainbows. My heart was swooning! He made me gourmet dinners, wrote poetry, and played me music!

We took things slow (physically) and it ended up that our first actual hook-up was on New Year’s Eve, a few months after we met. He had invited me over for a small gathering at his house to meet some of his family and then we went out with some friends to a bar for the countdown. He even offered to be my designated driver for met that night—pulling out all the gentleman moves. After a great evening and a midnight kiss we headed home, to his home.

You can use your own imagination to guess what happened between us on the hours of midnight December 31st 2010 and the wee hours of January 1st 2011. At about 7am on New Year’s Day, I awake tangled in Bad Boy’s arms and I hear someone enter the front door of his house. Not too worried because he did live with a roommate, I snuggle in closer and close my eyes. Bad Boy returns the gesture with some sweet kisses on my forehead. All a sudden a whirlwind opens the bedroom door. A flash of blonde, the sound of dogs (!?!), “I KNEW IT!” and the bedroom door slams closed. Bad Boy races out of the room in his underwear to chase after—The EX.

For the next half an hour I lay in Bad Boy’s bed listening to sobs from The Ex. I should have stormed right on out of the house but I made a “you’re smarter than this” bad decision to just pretend like what was happening wasn’t happening.

Eventually Bad Boy came back to his room, the EX gone (after her dogs had shit on his kitchen floor) and tried to act like it was nothing. When I demanded to know why she thought it was ok to just waltz into his house at such an early hour on New Year’s Day he started to defend her. OUCH.  I ended up leaving shortly after the whole scene happened (without even a kiss, “I’m sorry” or I’ll talk to you later from Bad Boy). I knew he was going to go crawling back to the EX and I was broken-hearted. Happy 2011 to me!

~The Rebound, 23

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