What the Fuck Was I Thinking
Sometimes the dumbest decisions make the dirtiest memories.
I don’t know why I’m writing this, but fuck it, here it goes. It started at this party a couple of years back. Nothing too fancy—just one of those crowded house parties where the music is way too loud, the floors are sticky, and you end up drinking whatever cheap booze someone shoves in your hand. I was in a good mood, looking hot, feeling reckless. Everyone was in the same vibe: laughing, dancing, and bumping into each o...