~ Resort Boy ~
Leave it to me to have drama on my trip; where I go, drama follows, and where drama goes, boys leave. God damn.
I’m certainly not back to my pre-trip happiness, but I’m a lot better than I was Sunday and Monday. So all signs are pointing to ‘I am moving on’
So friends, here’s the story…
Dominican was the BEST and WORST week of my life. Long story short (oh what? You want the long story? Hmm, can we settle on the medium length story? Deal? Deal) I met a boy my first night there who I fell really HARD for, like really hard.
He was handsome, and nice and my type-of-guy: 6 feet. Blue eyes. Dark hair. Runs marathons. Plays chess. Loves dogs. Has a husky. Works for another Bank (trader). Lives in Toronto. Hates sushi. 32. Hilarious and sarcastic. Loves adventure and loves to travel. S e e ? Perfect for me…
I was in heart and felt I could pass out when he looked at me. And the kicker? he liked me, like really, really liked me. And then, (because I suck at life,) I went and fucked it all up, like really, really fucked it all up…
Naturally I had been watching him all night (stalker much? Never!) and had oh-so-very elegantly and strategically placed myself next to him at the bar (come on ladies, we all do it), at which point he struck up a conversation with me and after catching my breath I spoke to him all night long.
We had the most incredible week together. Think movie scenes here: Skinny dipping at 4am under the stars in the sea. Hot make-outs on secluded beaches. Snuggles under the stars on beach towels. Some intense sessions on beach chairs. We didn’t have sex, just hot, sexy make outs (I liked him too much to sleep with him, and I think vice versa). He was aggressive in the perfect way (ie. pushing me up against a wall of a dark cave and giving me the perfect kiss) and amazingly sweet too. It was like I was in a fucking fairy tale movie and had found my prince charming. My prince charming who I was NOT self conscious in front of (couldn’t explain why…).
We had already planned to meet up in Toronto - everything was PERFECT. And then…wait for it, here’s the part where I SUCK AT LIFE…
I drank so effing much our last night there and then somehow (it’s all a blur to me, and if you judge me on this, I’m judging your grandmother) I MADE-OUT WITH HIS BEST FRIEND!!!!! Who I didn’t even like, who I didn’t even think was hot, and who I sincerely had zero feelings for whatsoever.
I have no fucking clue how it happened, just that lots of alcohol was involved. I know I had felt bad for said Best-Friend earlier in the night, as I heard he felt like a 5th wheel (my friend was with their other friend), so I went out of my way to include him, which included me taking him to some dark cave to show him something cool. I was being way too flirty, and as I walked away he pulled me in, and I (oh-so-very stupidly kissed him back). Sigh.
Best-Friend ended up telling Resort Boy and shit (obviously) flew. He went from really liking me to HATING me. I cried. It was SO SAD. I’ll never forget looking into his blue eyes, I thought he was going to cry. I fell to my knees. I got weak. (I know, drama Queen, but I really was so sad). My heart was beating so fast. I had nothing to say. I didn’t even know how to explain it to him, I didn’t even know how it all happened.
So ya… like I said, I suck at like. And have decided alcohol is the fucking DEVIL. I’ve written him TWO emails and have yet to hear anything. I doubt I will. Lesson learnt. I hate how I’m 25 and this happened. I also hate how it was all my fault, I’m used to being on the receiving end, not the hurting end. Both are awful.
The drama went down in the early hours of Saturday morning which resulted in me nearly missing my plane home and I was hung-over as hell to add injury to insult.
So there’s that.
I know it sounds pathetic that I only knew him 7 days and fell so hard for him, but it was a super, hot, intense vacation romance… that left me with a wounded soul and pondering who the hell I am.