This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Utah chapter.

So, you decide you want to sleep with your ex again. It’s been a bumpy road, a glorified train wreck, a decision your friends have probably lectured you about. But like they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions (right?) Sometimes it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. You reassure yourself, “of course he’s he’s here for the right reasons” (the right reasons being a friendly and very casual blowjob). Regardless, you two are having your fairytale moment, even if it’s only for a slightly rushed fantasy suite date that ends with a casual fist bump and a “what the hell am I doing.” Overall, when you plunge into the dark world of casual sex with an ex, you can feel lost and confused. So, with that, our favorite faces from the Bachelor franchise are here to tell your story, and give you some clarity into your Throwback Thursday of a relationship status.

It’s late one night. You’ve swiped right one too many times on Tinder. The sex has been okay–like vanilla ice cream, still satisfying, but you’re looking for something…more. They just don’t kiss you the way you want them to. There’s been a lot of “awkward” sex, the bumping foreheads, too nervous to dirty talk kind of sex. In your casual dating game, you’ve run into some pretty frightening kinks, and quite frankly you’re over it all. So, you reach for the phone, and do what everyone would advise against. You text your ex, “hey, you up?”

They text back, “Yeah, what’s up?,” which eventually leads to the inevitable “come over.” It feels familiar to see them. It feels comfortable. The kind of comfortable you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been broken up. “This was a good decision,” you think to yourself.

After you’ve casually caught up about school, and work, and lame hobbies you hated when you two were dating, the sexual tension eventually builds, and you decide to make the first move. You ignore all the flashing red signs that tell you this is a bad idea, and do it anyway.

When he takes off his pants, you are struck by the startling realization that things aren’t as…big as you once thought they were.

Unfortunately, it’s too late to turn back now. And, on the bright side, they’re kissing your neck just like they used to. Which is nice, until you realize they’ve probably been kissing other girls in the exact same spot.

You continue. He finishes. You, well, “almost” finish. And when the post-sex pillow talk sets in, they ask how many people you’ve slept with since you’ve been broken up.

Then, they clearly try and brag about how they’re more moved on from the relationship than you are. They bring up other people, past dates, new relationships, and a bunch of other sh*t you did not sign up to hear about. You just wanted some good head.

Despite this, you still wonder if you two should get back together. I mean the sex is pretty good.

Mid pillow talk, you realize that hearing about him talk about other girls still hurts. And even though you’re not in love with him, you definitely still think he should still be in love with you. Someone get over ME? Nope. Not possible.

You debate whether or not you should stay the night, but they insist that you sleepover for “old times sake.” You, politely oblige them. After all, it might be nice to cuddle like you used to. You just have to remind inner you, drunk you, horny you that this is not going to end well.

Cuddling is nice, and before you know it you’re falling into a nice depression sleep with the brutal thought that love falls apart.

You wake up before they do, with their arms wrapped around you. Your somber “all love fails” cloud has lifted from your shoulders, and has been replaced with a post-orgasm, “what the f**k have I done” state of mind. The reasonable, logical you has finally defeated horny, irresponsible you.

When they finally wake up, you decide it’s time to hit the road. They give you a one-armed hug, and tell you that it was “nice to see you again” a.ka. “it was nice to have someone give me a hand job that wasn’t myself.”

And on your drive home, you come to your senses and realize that exes are meant to be exes, and that Tinder was designed for a reason.

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Sleeping With Your Ex as Told by the Bachelor

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