Frozen peas, please

I've never called my Mum on the phone crying before. Either my life has been a series of good fortune that I've never felt the urge to call Lorraine and let her know how terribly unfair something was, or I've stuck to my ethos in that crying is a personal thing, and doesn't really need an audience. Either way, that tradition was shattered when I was in Prague.

I had been living in Prague for roughly three months; in the first month, my American boyfriend had flown all the way from the United States to break up with me. (No, this isn't the embarrassing part, although it was pretty rough telling my housemates the next day). The second month was what I would later call my grieving period - lots of work, study for uni, endless amounts of cheap beer, going out every night of the week. Hey, it's Prague.

The third month started off innocently enough - going along in my rhythm, going out with my friends, flirting with some guys to "get back out there" (Jesus, even just writing it makes me cringe). I was having a bit of a flirtation with my German friend Lukas - he studied the same degree as me, and we ran in similar expat circles. At one party, during one of the many drinking games, I was dared to kiss someone present by the end of the evening. On our way to the pub around the corner, I pulled Lukas aside from the group and gave him a kiss. We continued on to the pub, where I felt pretty confident things with him would progress at some point in the future.

The next day, I receive a text from Lukas, asking if I wanted to join him and some of his mates in the park. As I had been living in Western Europe for a while now, I knew that a sunny day equated being in a park, somewhere. I agreed, thinking it would be a day-drinking scenario, perhaps sun-bathing, but definitely relaxing. I had underestimated the lure of the sun, and just how much Germans love to play sports and activities in the sunshine.

Arriving in a pair of jeans and t shirt, I was horrified to spy a small trampoline on the ground near the group - this was the tell-tale sign of activities to come.

"Come on Megan, it'll be fun! Us versus the English" Lukas smiled as I joined, holding a volleyball. To play the game, two people are on a team, and must bounce the ball on to the trampoline, and the other team must bounce it back - sort of like volleyball, but without a net, or purpose.

Although this wasn't how I'd planned the date, and to be completely honest I hadn't been to the gym in months by that point, I nonetheless joined in with gusto. Take it as a point of pride, but I was determined to not let my unfitness keep my from doing something that I didn't really want to do. Whatever.

The game was actually going quite well - I had mastered the basics quickly, and decidedly let the boys dive and fall to reach the ball. It was all going fine until - pop. My back. I felt it in the small of my back, but didn't pay it much mind, it was most likely just a bit sore from lack of use.

After the game, we wandered over to a beer garden and finally, I was in my element. Enjoyment of my Pils was somewhat diminished as I felt a nagging strain in my lower back - would you keep it down? I'm trying to win over someone here. Shifting slightly in my chair sent sharp jabs of pain up my spine. Shit. But things were going so well with Lukas! He was laughing at my jokes and telling me some childhood stories from Hamburg.

As dusk started to descend, Lukas offered to cook dinner for the remaining few of us - he lived only 5 minutes away, and had plenty of spare pasta to go around. Arriving at his house, the pain started to mount, with any twisting movement of my back making me grimace. Finally I said, "hey Lukas, you mind if I just lay down on your floor here?". Lorraine had taught me that the cure for a sore back is lying on a hard, straight floor - it will fix you up in a jiffy, or so she claimed.

"Uhhhh sure, why, are you that drunk?" Lukas laughed as I gingerly lay myself down in the middle of the kitchen floor.

I explained what had happened in the park, and Lukas' friends were very kind and sympathetic to my pains. They didn't laugh at my floor technique, and agreed that a cold granite sleep would probably fix me right up.

The pasta was quite nice, although it was quite a feat to have Lukas feed it to me from a foot above my mouth, dangling it in slowly. Eventually it was just the two of us, so I relocated myself to the lounge. I settled myself into a comfortable position, mentally cursing my stupid back for being a cockblocker.

Lukas, however, had different ideas. He joined me on the couch, sitting very closely next to me. Within a few minutes we were making out, me staying perfectly still in the hopes my back wouldn't spasm if I became a mannequin.

"Should we go somewhere else, maybe? The Schlafzimmer?" Lukas asked, starting to stand up.

Oh fuck. This is going to hurt.

"Sure" I reply, as I struggled to my feet. I tried to smile at Lukas but it may have been more of a sneer from pain.

We go to his room, and of course it's a single bed. I eye it off tentatively, wondering how on Earth this is going to play out.

First removing his own clothes, and then my own, Lukas guides us to the bed. He gently pushes me on to it, and enquires after my back. "You sure it won't hurt too much?"

Mmhmmm I reply, already knowing I'm going to need to book a deep tissue massage the next day.

Friends have asked me afterwards whether the sex was good, and how did I deal with the pain? Surely it must have been excruciating, trying to have sex with a newly slipped disc (supposedly)? To this, I have no answer. In terms of painful sex it's the best I've ever had, but honestly there aren't that many other contenders on the list. Why would you do it, if you were in pain? Couldn't you have just waited? Now this I can partly answer, in that I'm a god-damned idiot. Sure, I could've waited, but some cave-woman aspect of my mind was telling me that I should take the opportunity with this guy I liked, because who knows if it'll ever happen again. Following this recourse made sure that it would never happen again.

Afterwards, lying awkwardly in the single bed, I caved. "Do you have an ice pack or anything, or ibuprofen? I think I'm dying".

Lukas jumped straight out of bed (ever the gentleman), and returned a few minutes later. "We don't have any ice packs, but we do have some frozen food. Do you want peas, or corn?"

"Frozen peas, please" I reply, face down in the bed, my voice muffled from shoving my face in the pillow, whilst still being completely naked.

He returned to the bed with me, and placed the peas on the small of my back. "Any better?"

I almost cry from relief. Jesus Christ. "Could you massage it a bit, if that's cool?"

I'm extremely grateful that I can't see Lukas' face at this point. He proceeds to massage my back gently, making sure to keep the peas applied at the sorest spots. "This is the weirdest thing I've ever done".

"Likewise". I drift off to sleep.

The next day, I want to die. Walking to the train station to get back to my apartment, I realise I can't even sit down, my back hurts so much. I stand flat-footed and staunch, tears in my eyes constantly. I manage to waddle back to Wenceslaus Square, and up the two flights of stairs to my apartment. Calling my Mum, I can't stop the tears. "I'm never playing German volleyball again!" I wail.

"Oh is that what they call it nowadays?".