Vanilla Frozen Cupcakes.

I went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by myself last night 'cause all my friends are assholes and either have stupid things like families or hate Harry Potter. Fuck that. They could have at least pretended to have liked it for two and a half hours for my sake. Jerks.

Anyway, sitting in the movie theatre alone wasn't bad at all. I just huddled in my big coat in the back and quietly oo'd and awed as the film progressed.
Obviously the film was dynamite. There were mermaids in it and it was so much more creepier than the others with all that black magic and whatnot. I can't actually pinpoint my favourite part in the film because it was all so good. I hate the woman who wrote those books for being so clever with her imagination and all that other rubbish. I wish I had an imagination like that.

My dear friend Jaysun returned to me last night in the form of an msn message from Borden. We spoke for a long while about a lot of crap and then he casually admitted that he wanted to have, "one last fling" before he got married.
That proposition is far too tempting, but not tempting enough for either of us to act on it. Jaysun was the guy that I semi dated in college. A six foot seven basketball player with a curly mop of hair, whom always wore docs with red laces with black stars on them. I wanted him bad.
I remember the day we almost had sex very vividly. It was hallowe'en. I was in my second year of college and I was wearing my neon orange raver pants and carving pumpkins. He helped me finish the pumpkins and then we trudged downstairs where the notorious tickle fights began. Soon we were in my bed, half naked, fondling, biting. He was the first boy I had ever kissed who had been taller than me. I loved being short. I loved feeling small. And just when we were about to just go at it, my mother came home.

MY FUCKING MOTHER.

So we raced to put our clothes back on and then ran to the living room to turn on the tv and maintain our innocent appearances.

After that, Jaysun and I never had another chance. The sexual tension between the two of us exploded every time we saw eachother and I suppose it still does because I still want to fuck him.
I won't though, I can't. He's engaged and I might as well be. Our conversation last night was a mixture of regret and what if's. I told him he should have fucked me when he had the chance, he told me he still wanted to see my tits... What man doesn't?

The conversation ended when I finished my fozen cupcake. I crawled into my bed on the floor and dropped into a dream that is far too hazy for me to account for.

I wish I was evil enough to fuck whatever I wanted.