You see them tagged in a photo at a club back in Berlin. They aren't doing anything wrong (they are single, after all), but your heart sinks. Your "summer fling" is now just "the person who lives 4,000 miles away."
You are two ships passing in the night. You meet at the hostel bar. They are from Canada. You are from Australia. You are both drinking cheap vodka out of plastic cups. You bond over how much you hate your corporate jobs. The drunker you get, the more you realize you have the exact same "life philosophy" (which is usually just nihilism with a tan). drunk sex orgy international summer fuckers top
Given the inevitable heartbreak, why do we do it? Why do we drink the sangria knowing we will be crying in the airport? You see them tagged in a photo at a club back in Berlin
As the summer winds down and the tan lines fade, we look back at these romantic storylines with a mixture of cringe and gratitude. We cringe at the drunk texts we sent. We cringe at the fact that we cried over someone whose favorite book is "not really a reader." But we are grateful for the plot twist. You meet at the hostel bar