The other day I received an invitation from you. I was invited to you wedding. Apparently you got together with the nice and pretty little girl- who had transformed into a beautiful and fierce woman- after our breakup.
You talked about our relationship like it was a breeze, not knowing the effect you had on my life. You joked about our time together being 'children's play' and laughed about all the 'stupid and cringey romantic things' we had done together.
My husband saw me weep with my eyes, but he couldn't help ease the pain.
I felt anger, I felt disgust, I felt sadness, I felt guilt, but I couldn't feel my husband's love through his emotional support. I couldn't give him love and that broke me even further. All I could think of as I ate the strawberries atop my piece of cake and caught a whiff of cigarette trailing in from the smoking area nearby was that it'll always and only taste and smell like you.
YOU ARE READING
Strawberries & Cigarettes
Short StoryInspired by the song strawberries and cigarettes by Troye Sivan and a sad story I've heard of. The pic I used to edit is a picture of Vernon (seventeen) from a user called Zeppie on the website fanpop.com (found it on google) so credits to them. "I...
