Fuck Mr.X is wearing a leather jacket today. Who does he think he is, Danny Zuko from Grease. At least it’s not a striped dress shirt that he wore 2 days ago. Gosh, I wish he could dress like a typical 16-year-old, but I mean if he’s trying to go for the sugar daddy look or a pimp, or a guy who owns a strip club, I guess he’s accomplishing his future feat in life. Well, as much he tries to perpetuate and educate himself on the art of sexual intercourse, more guys at school are getting more action than him. It could be that they are not a perverted as him or it could be that they don’t have crazy ass expectations of dating a Latina when a Latina is a rarity in Canada (then again if Trump kicks all the Mexicans out of the US, then he might be in luck). Just yesterday, a guy in my French class (let’s call him Mr. Boobs) willingly touched my boobs. Mr.X can only describe the feeling, but this guy felt it, and I have to admit it, he is a sweet guy, in a sort of guy best friend way. I don’t want Mr.X to go out and fuck a girl, but at least lower the bar on his attractive girl radar. I mean god, a tight Latina is not going to walk through that door right now and instantly fall in love with him. And if he thinks he can get a girl pregnant by just staring at her, then he clearly hasn’t ever seen Liam Hemsworth; that guy can get a small population of girls pregnant just by winking at them. And NO, I cannot easily be raped, I’m small, but you can’t get that close to me. I’ll fuckin make sure that you can never have kids in your life.
And what is his deal with always contradicting all my statements? He thinks that by pissing me off or questioning my moody personality that I’m trying to distant myself from him. I’m not just going go switching out of IB just because Mr.X friend zoned me. I have been rejected before, and I will be rejected in the future, but imma keep on marching and will one day find my guy, prince charming, my everything. Yeah, I got fantasies, I have dreams of how my guy would be like; a tall (6”2) fair skinned brown guy (probably Tamil), built but has to be built all the way, body, and legs. He should be an intellect and can carry a conversation for hours while talking about himself and getting to know me at the same time. He should be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer, who is also artistic or can play an instrument. He should be honest, loyal, confident but not cocky, and caring, like my mother when I’m on my period by cuddling with me and buying me all the food I so desire during that month. He should be well-dressed, and he should be a supporting pillar, not a shadow that casts over me and completely overwhelms me. He should be someone I fall in love with every day, and he never gets old to me. A lot of expectations, I know, but it is a compilation of my Prince Charming over the last 16 years, cut me some slack.