Rush

Okay, so I went to the haunted house and got molested by one of the zombies. No big deal? It was to me, but not in a bad way. Having a guy breath on me and bite me was exhilarating. I realize that passion is something that I'm missing in my life. It's so much more than just sex. I want intimacy. I want excitement. I've gone without for so long that just having a guy get close made my heart race.

But on the other side, I tend to look at people and think they're dirty and gross. Granted, on the subway, it's hot and sweaty and they are dirty and gross. But, in general, I tend to look at guys and just lack any drive. Being a hypochondriac doesn't help. Being shy doesn't help. Being self-conscious doesn't help.

I want that rush. The rush that the random zombie gave me in a pitch black haunted house. There's a possibility on the horizon. Let's just say that I'll be having my own version of Mr. Big in San Francisco. I could pretend to debate what I'm gonna do, but I already know what'll happen if he does come. It'd be wrong and illicit and perfect and exactly what I need.