Greg Broke My Heart Into 1,000 Pieces, Stomped On Shards and Set Them On Fire

ERICA: “Wow,” said Greg, “I’m really not liking these.”

Greg just broke my heart into 1,000 pieces, stomped on the shards and then set the whole shebang on fire. Over-dramatic?

Our invitation sample just arrived in the mail. The sample that I previously drooled over, caressed and sang love songs to. So I brought pictures of the sample home and Greg claimed it reminded him of a henna tattoo. But he didn’t say he didn’t like it, just that he’d want to see one in person.

And now he has.

Son
Of
A
BITCH!

I’m seriously unprepared for this circumstance. Why doesn’t he hear the angels singing like I do!?

Of course, by the end of our conversation he threw in a “Fine, I don’t care. Just order them.” But his tone indicated that he most certainly did care and that if I DID order them, I would likely be signing up for a lifetime of “well, we ordered the wedding invitations you wanted so it only seems fair that we [INSERT MISCELLANEOUS THING THAT GREG WANTS ME TO GIVE IN ON].”

The scary thing is that I’m so desperately in love with these invites, I might just be willing to chance it.

Greg Broke My Heart Into 1,000 Pieces,  Stomped On Shards and Set Them On Fire