The last week has been a whirlwind of crazy, complete chaos and above all, spontaneity. And I loved nearly every minute of it, most I can remember, a few are a bit fuzzy. I feel like something snapped a bit in my brain and I almost wasn't me anymore. I don't know if it was a permanent tweak, or just a temporary one, and quite honestly, I'm a little scared to find out.
I've always been such a good girl. Painfully but also realistically good. I'm no nun, no stereotype. But by society's standards I've spent the first quarter of my life playing it safe. Really, really safe.
Which is why, when I woke up the other morning and remembered the shocking things I had done the previous night, after drinking more than I needed to, I was highly amused. I giggled to Charlotte about all the uncharacteristic things I had done. Then later, I started to get embarrassed. Mostly because most of the guys I was with didn't know me very well. And while I don't mind being thought of as wild, or fun, and just a little bad, there are so many negative words for the type of girl who pulls a guy into a dark corner of a bar for a little making out. And I am not those words.
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