Break Up

Date: 10/2/2016

I'm in some kind of spring festival, at night. There are a lot of flowers, and torches illuminate all the party. I see my boyfriend coming, and I step in his way. He has a cigarrette. I ask him what he's doing. He says he's smoking. I say he doesn't smoke, and he responds that now he does. Then he tries to kiss me, and I push him away because of the awful smell and taste of the cigarette. We have a huge fight, and I go away. I get back to the spot at the beggining of the dream, but now he passes by with a cry face, and angry. I watch while he seats at a table with one of my friends, and they start talking about how I'm weak and insecure, and about how I disapproved his new smoking habits. I want to go there, but I don't have courage. I only know we broke up.