As I finally head home that night, I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. I know I had to respect Iris's ridiculous choice to put a distance between us so she could think whatever and come to her senses, but I also can't help the flicker of hope constantly making my gut churn that she might change her mind and come home so we can have a proper conversation.
I want her to know that success means nothing without her by my side. If I was with her right now after receiving the news about the magazine souring high like I did this afternoon, I know we would be celebrating in the car before we even got home.
I bet she too knows what we would be doing at this time of the day after the news. Kissing, conversing, singing, and sex. The possibilities are endless, and that is the reason why I'm miserable as fuck. Iris is nowhere near me, which is making these imaginations hard to bear.
