My hand is killing me!
I wave it in front of my face as though proving a point to myself -and it could only be to my self seeing as how I'm the only person in the office, actually I'm the only person in the entire building.
I have been here for 2 days solid, I haven't slept, I've barely eaten, in fact the only decent conversation I've had has been with myself!
If Marcus doesn't love these designs he can stick his job and then I will stick my pencil somewhere that will make his eyes water.
Putting down my pencil I head towards the coffee machine... again, it's 5 am, the office doesn't open for another 3 hours and I have been here since... Thursday?
I don't think I can remember actually going home!
Refilling my cup I stretch my neck from side to side, the pull of the stiff muscles feels good but the familiar buzz from the coffee feels better.
I really want to go home, I really, really want a hot bath with my favourite lavender essential oils and I want to light some candles and pour my self a glass of wine and put on a really relaxing c.d. In short- I just want to chill... and then I want to call Travis.
It's been two nights since we last talked and seeing as how we went 10 years before that without talking you'd think I would be dealing with this better... but I'm not
I've spent the last 48 hours drawing, erasing and replaying my conversations with Travis in my head.
I've come to two conclusions, 1. I still think he's hot as hell and 2. There's something he's not telling me.
First of all Travis never says he's going to call me back and then forgets.
Yes, occasionally he'd be a couple of hours late and I'd give him hell and he'd be so cute when he apologised that I'd forgive him immediately but he never didn't call, I know 10 years is a long time but I refuse to believe that he's changed that much... or maybe I'm hoping that his feelings haven't changed that much.
Either way I still think something's going on, like how jumpy he's been when we've been talking, it's like he's constantly on edge, like... he could be caught at any time. Like he used to be when I'd call him late at night to play our favourite get away game and he was worried that his parents would catch him.
Returning to my seat I ponder the inner workings of Travis Kelce's mind and I'm heartbroken to realise that I really don't know him any more.
Now, ask me the inner workings of Travis Kelce aged 17's mind and I could tell you it inside and out. I knew him better than I knew myself back then. He was all about 3 things- his family, his football and little old me.
Well, I wasn't old then, but I'm sure getting old now and these all nighters, coupled with my love of coffee and Wine are not doing anything for the aging process.
Poking around in my handbag I find what I'm looking for, a small black mirror. Flipping it open I physically recoil in horror.
I'm starting to look like my mother!
I slam it shut and throw it into the bottom of my bag.
Now I'm hungry, tired and depressed!
