Smoking is injurious to health. I know, but I am addicted. Well, "addicted" is a big, serious word, I am not that far gone. Really.

But I wish I had stopped, then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have entered that smoking room where I met him.

But I didn't stop. I did enter that smoking room. And I met him. Unfortunately. Well...I didn't know whether it was fortunate or unfortunate at the time. I didn't know it yet, but meeting him would change everything. I was out with my friend, dancing and drinking, and doing everything to forget about my breakup that happened like six months ago and I really thought I was over it, I dumped him after all, but I wasn't over him. Because if I was really over him, I wouldn't be thinking about why he couldn't love me or why didn't he say "I love you" back or why didn't he just tell me how he really felt or why the fuck he cried when I broke up with him and only cared when I was gone. I will never know.

Am I that unlovable?

Nope. I wasn't unlovable. He just did not know how to love. That's what I tell myself every time. And that's what I told myself when I was getting ready to go out. I wish I had said no. But how can I say no to going out with Maya, we were busy with schoolwork and part time work that we never got to hangout properly. I could never say no to her. 

10 PM, I was outside the bar waiting for her. We walked in and were greeted by music—loud, pulsing, filling the room. People were everywhere, dancing. We ordered a few drinks, ran into some familiar faces, and danced—but my ex still took up most of my head space. Ugh. 

I searched in my purse for something. Yes, my Marlboro. Blue, just like my favorite color. I needed it—just a tiny escape. And I entered the smoking room. 

I read about the Butterfly Effect a long time ago, but I understand it now. The butterfly effect means that tiny, seemingly unimportant events can trigger far-reaching consequences. And well... boy, did it reach far-reaching consequences. 

"Hey."