Put a little candle on top of 24...

I let go of Cinnamon-Rum….

I’m not sure how it happened, really. I turned 24 on Saturday and suddenly, exorcising my only Cupcake simply seemed like the must-du-jour. I thought it would be painful and that I’d seriously miss that sugar rush I always get when with him (and believe me,  I definitely do); however, if I didn’t do it quick like a band-aid during a BIG event I would continue on going back to Him. Like a food addict, almost literally taking him out of the garbage can and in all senses of the word eating him whole.

There simply is something about Cinnamon-Rum that has always made me take on a whole new persona. When with him I turn into an edgy, heartless, purely erotic Bakeress who only thinks about making cupcakes and don’t really care who in the process gets hurt.

To him I’m just a sex object and that is quite evidently my doing. Any time he’d even suggest making it something more, I’d heat up the broiler and scorch off his words. No… we were “strictly business” and “strictly business” is what I remained as until I realized that from baking I expect a bit more. 

Merely being an open pair of legs was sizzling and sexy during the summer of 23; however, along with the cold winds of autumn comes a bolder and older 24… it’s time to move on to someone who actually wants to keep me warm during the winter and thaw out with me when spring time rolls around later on.

Here's to all the possibilities of 24!

Hit the reset button or pretend as though I wasn't asked to take a seat....

Sometimes I feel as though over-analyzing relations with the opposite sex is very much a dull problem of mine which if I verbalized it more frequently to others they'd think that I'm either obsessive or just plain nuts. However, I'm there when my other friends talk about their own little distressful situations and have come to the convenient conclusion that over-analyzing is something we all do and it all comes down to pride, paranoia, and our latest hump partner's rude and indecisive mindfucks.

In theory, no one likes playing games... that doesn't mean that we don't end up playing them anyway as an action/reaction kind of defense in our ultimate fear of giving too much only to realize that you just got made a fool of. Ok, maybe that's just my own issue yet, I still defend my idea that everyone plays games in one form or another.

I've always been guarded when it comes to my heart... I'm friendly, open, and sincere about pretty much anything with anybody, capable of creating great friendships with people in a short period of time (I'd say it comes from moving around so much and having to start and restart over and over again growing up); however, nothing terrifies me more than admitting that I actually love someone; first to myself, then to my close friends, and finally fessing up my feelings to the culprit for is just plain inconceivable, something I'd rather take a bullet instead of....

...and that's messed up.

I think that before I talk about Cupcakes, Eclairs, and Muffins, I have to really look into my very first boy-loves and why it is that I could never admit that I cared so much for them until now... what shall I call them? Dough? Cookies?

For the record...

Eight months… Eight months is all it takes to look back and realize that you’re nowhere near being that person you were back then. Everything, as if shaken up in a giant snow globe swished, swirled, and settled down to reveal something/someone seemingly equal yet (if you were to know each speck of white from the pre-shaken You) there would be no denying that what is left is an entirely new person.
And for what? Morals? A boy? A desperate attempt to rectify a poor one-night decision which only ended in more questions about what you truly believed in, irreparably chiseling a new identity… a new person... a new me.  So much for no baking until I magically found a ring on digit number 4!
The snow globe’s new version of me reveals a sad and lonely bakery revolving around different stale and unsavory pastries and one single Cupcake which tastes delicious yet refuses to claim the baker as his…