Pure. Unadulterated. Irresistible. Whimsical. These were some of the ridiculous words that described their love. The same words that every love story had used over and over again to create a false hope in young hearts beating relentlessly to find their own fairytale. Little did they know that were being fed a drug—most dangerous but legalised by all authorities across the globe. The drug called love had its own side effects, withdrawal symptoms and a craving that only one person could absolve. Sitting at her uncomfortable seat at Starbucks she thought about the time they met. Muddled in her thoughts she took a bite of the caramel laden popcorn and crunchy pretzels soaking in the milky sweet mixture. It had all started off as a verse straight out of a love poem. There were guitars playing in the background, 4 am conversations, bitter sweet arguments and then, a strong reality check. “It’s me. Not you.” He said. Her straw made a choking noise as the sweet pop-zel came to an end. She made her resolve stronger and deleted the last of their text messages. After all, love had died a long time ago. It was the idea of love that still lived. But she wasn’t going to let it fool her again.
