IRIS
Unlike most people, I could count my happy firsts on one hand. I didn’t have the first bike rides, first sleepovers or first kisses like everyone else. Mine were few and I treasured them deeply.
The first time I wrote a song that didn't feel like garbage, I was fifteen, hiding in my room and the melody just... came.
First time I heard one of my songs on the radio, I was in my car, alone on the highway. I had to pull over because I was crying so hard and I couldn't see the road.
The first time, Leo told me he loved me. We were on his couch, watching some terrible movie, and he just said it. Like loving me was the most natural thing in the world.
Those were my three happy firsts and I still had two fingers left.
Most of the firsts I remember are not happy. The first time I shifte
