Things are starting to come together in that slow, haphazard way they do. This, despite the fact that I am almost purposely being foolish. I might be 24 now, but I feel younger than I maybe ever had. I want to love and to drink and to dance. I want to wake up with headaches and next to pretty faces. I want to flirt and tease and laugh like it doesn't matter, with no promises and no expectations. Nothing is perfect, but everything is good, and that's all I'd ever ask for.