It's an obsessive/risky little game I play with myself

It just happened a few days ago: I had been reading, in the local freebie "Entertainment Guide," descriptions of movies currently playing on Oahu--all of them dreadful; from knuckle-dragging clit-flicks and dim-witted slasher-fantasies with one or no stars, to the universally drooled-upon "re-invention of the musical," Once, with a unanimous four stars. I'd been reading about the latter everywhere I turned for a week or two, with ever-deepening conviction that I would rather have root-canal surgery than sit through five minutes of something so dip-shitful ('set in Dublin, the heart-warming story of a bitter-sweet heterosexual relationship between a "busker" [I had to look that one up] and an immigrant....'). As it happened I was cleaning house, going through miscellaneous papers in my backpack and putting them in drawers--or throwing them in the garbage. In a side compartment of the backpack, along with various phone-numbers and pencilled adresses, was a sheaf of four free movie tickets that had been given me at the Central Union Church 'Christmas for the Homeless' dinner last December, good through December 2007. Without a second thought, I threw them all into the garbage. Such was my revulsion, contempt, and absolute determination to forget (a movie which, after all, I'd never seen; whose "music" [however loathsome I imagine it to be] I will probably never hear), that it didn't dawn on me till the next day, long after the garbage had been collected, that I'd thrown four good movie tickets irrevocably away--and I've been wondering ever since if I really meant to do that. I've read a lot more reviews of Once (all favorable, except just one that said about it what I suspect is the god-awful maudlin truth of it)--and I know that I'd rather throw away any number of free movie tickets than see it....And yet. And yet.