Like a broken record, my mind is fixated on replaying the memory of our first kiss.
You fall for that bad boy that your parents warned you about.
I’ve always thought that I was somewhat logical. In school, I aced the erudite concepts of Einstein, the arcane thoughts of Kent, but when it comes to love, I’m flailing and nonplussed.
I couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of how privileged I was.