Falling in love is so uncool

I can not forget the way he looked at me, the way he smiled. The looks he had thrown me, daring me into some reaction; sending signals.
I can not forget the taste of his lips, the weight and the heat of his body firmly, teasingly pressed against mine and the sudden, mindless, almost desperate desire it had caused.
How he had managed to render me quite helpless in my need.
I can not forget the feel of his naked skin underneath my hands or the way his touches seemed to send sparks right down my spine. The tangle of limbs; the sounds we made; the smell of alcohol on his breath; the smell of sweat and sex later on.
And most of all I can not forget the feeling of absolute despair in finding the bed next to me deserted. The disappointment in finding out that he had not deemed it necessary to leave a note. That all I had was his name and my memories of the night before.
There are two days and an ocean between that night and today; between him and me but I just can not forget. I sat staring out into the unreal blurry darkness through the frosted over window for most of the flight from Toronto back to Europe, to Germany.
I tried not to think but of course thought of nothing but him. I did not dare to close my eyes because every time I did I saw him behind my closed eyelids, reliving those memories. I still think of him now; I still do not dare to close my eyes so I sit up and write instead. The sound of my fingers tapping the keys on my laptop is a hollow one, a lonely one. Why can’t I stop thinking about him?
What have I done? Oh, God what have I done? How could I fall if it is such a foolish thing to do? How could I fall when it is so uncool?