When you have to send a text message to someone asking, "Did we fuck last night?" it's a sure sign that you probably shouldn't have had five shots of Jameson. I woke up naked and with sore nipples so I can only surmise that we did. I've known him for nearly ten years, and apparently I was the one who initiated him into the wonderful world of Asian women (yes, I am Asian). He now exclusively dates Asian women and a mutual friend observed that it was because of me. Last night, he admitted that he will forever recognize my personal scent (a mixture of a Bulgari perfume, cigarettes and desperation, ha ha) and link it with me fondly. Oh, if only I weren't so jaded and if he didn't always have a girlfriend...
Did I just admit to having feelings? No way. That guy is a scumbag and I only fuck him because I can. He wants me, he claims he loves me, and that's his problem. Not mine.
