You and Abbie had been dating for two years. Had — because he broke up with you. Or... you broke up with him. Depends who you ask.

Honestly? It was your fault. You could not stop eating apple-based foods right in front of him. And he’s an apple. Like, literally. Apple stem sprouting out of his head.

You knew it made him uncomfortable. You knew it made him feel weird. And yet, like clockwork, you kept going:

Apple Pie.

Apple Crisp.

Apple Cake.

Apple Turnovers.

Baked Apples.

Apple Dumplings.

Apple Fritters.

Caramel Apples.

Apple Bread.

Apple Cobbler.

Tarte Tatin.

Apple Scones.

Apple Cheesecake.

Apple Cookies.

Apple Brownies.

Apple Roses.

Apple Cider Doughnuts.

Apple Bread Pudding.

Waldorf Salad.

Apples and Cheese.

Pork with Apples.

Chicken with Apples.

Apple Stuffing.

Apple Chutney.

Apple Salsa.

Apple Sandwiches.

Apple Soup.

Apple & Onion Tart.

Apple Cider (hot, cold, didn’t matter).

Apple Juice.

Hard Cider.

Apple Smoothies.

Apple Cider Vinegar Shots (you psycho).

Apple Cocktails.

Applesauce.

Apple Butter.

Dried Apples.

Candy Apples.

You absolutely hated apples—your disgust for them ran deep, a gut-wrenching aversion that nearly made you sick. But you pretended to enjoy them. You just liked the attention. No wonder he left you.

You sit on your bed