The Grave gets much, much deeper...

Alejandro approaches the bar with his head turned but I still recognize him because he appears to be looking for something. I have had a few drinks already so I'm feeling pretty outgoing. I yell his name and he walks over to introduce himself.

My cousins' girlfriend Linda, my cousin, and I sit in a bar, in a cluster of bars called Container City in Cholula. All the bars are close together and they all look like giant containers! How cool is that? Cholula kind of reminds me of the neighborhood I used to live in Chicago. Cholula is very artsy, lots of bars, restaurants, clubs, and an overpopulation of hipsters, same thing only much bigger than my old hood.

We speak in German for a long time, and he says I don't have an accent. I almost blush because I'm so happy to hear that. People always wonder why my German is better than my Spanish but the thing is that I never properly learned Spanish in a classroom setting and therefore I am in my head so much desperately trying to conjugate the word correctly that I forget about controlling the accent. 

Alejandro and I engage in a tri-lingual dance for hours. He is energetic, fun, and flirtatious. We are talking about everything and suddenly his blue eyes seem incredibly bright and I forget that this is a bad idea. 

We are laughing and talking and drinking. I meet a guy from the US (Indiana-neighbors!) and I allow myself to speak English because I'm just more fun in English. I take a shot of Mezcal. I feel that I'm still in control of the situation although I am starting to give Alejandro the googly-eyes.

He leans in and begins to speak softly in Spanish:

"You know what? You are going to end up with me."

Me: (laughs)

Alejandro: I know it.

I laugh and blush and I do not know why I'm blushing and not having the reaction I had when guys at the wedding said the same thing.

We all get into his car and ride to the next bar. He is a funny contrast to my cousin. My cousin is a little hipster-DJ dude with long hair and tattoos (and he's younger) and Alejandro just came from work and his wearing his clothes from the office-which I really like...

At the next bar things start to heat up, the music is louder, it is more crowded, and we have to lean in close to speak to each other. He holds his stare a long time. My friend and I like to call this giving "The Look."

DEFINITION OF THE LOOK:

An intense stare that a guy gives which is similar to the "undressing you with his eyes" look only slightly less lascivious and much sexier. 

So Alejandro is speaking in Spanish (which is already dangerous for me coming from a good looking guy) and he is giving me "the look" the entire time. Oh, and the alcohol keeps flowing. Bad-bad-bad combination for a girl who is engaged and confused...especially when he keeps telling you that you will end up with him one day. This kind of thing would send most girls who have experience with Latinos into a storm of eye-rolling (and I probably at one point did that too) but for some reason I'm extremely intrigued. 

He whispers in my ear and slowly pulls away so his cheek brushes against mine, he holds his mouth next to my lips as he pulls away and lingers there for a brief moment so I can feel him breathe, he doesn't kiss me, but at this point I want him too.

Eventually during one of these moments our lips meet and I don't know if it is because I'm drunk or not, but it feels like pure electricity, and I want more.

My cousin seems irritated by this as does my new  friend Scott from Indiana. Scott from Indiana pulls me aside to lecture me and I begin to feel the encroaching guilt. He gives me a big spiel, his life's story about being cheated on and I want to escape.

I begin to sober up and feel the guilt crushing down on my chest. I haven't kissed anyone in five years except Julian.

Julian. SHIT. What am I doing?

We walk to a club and I'm feeling sort of sick. My cousin thinks he's weird because he's not a hipster. Funny.

I start to give Alejandro the cold shoulder and he leaves. He says he might see me tomorrow to say goodbye. He leaves the club and I drink for two more hours. I drink and dance with Linda and stare at all the lights for a long time. I push some guy who stepped on my toe and tell him to fuck off. He gets mad. I'm drunk now. Really drunk. 

I go to the bathroom and stumble back up the stairs.

My cousin's girlfriend is gone and my cousin looks upset. 

Me: Where's linda?

My Cousin: She left. We got in a fight.

Me: What? I have all my shit at her house!

My Cousin: We will stay at my place.

Me: I need my contact case!

I whine about my contact case for an inordinate amount of time.

We leave the club and I pick a fight with someone outside. My cousin and his friends drag me to the car and I feel like throwing up but somehow I fight the urge.

I end up sleeping on a dirty couch with a giant Saint Bernard and a little black wiener dog. It is 4:00AM, I think. I lay there with the Saint Bernard staring at me. I pet his head and pray he doesn't eat me in my sleep.

What the hell did I just do? I ask myself as I drift into sleep.