Welcome to the mess.
I’m 23, still making decisions that end in late-night overthinking and regret smoothies.
This isn’t a love story. It’s more like a cautionary tale told through blurry memories, unread texts, and “why did I say that?” moments.
I’ve kissed red flags. Dated delusions. Mistook chaos for chemistry.
And for some reason, I decided to write it all down — not because I’m proud, but because someone’s gotta laugh (or cry) with me.











