The wedding dress. Yeah, that dress. The white one you walked down the isle with, looking like a princess, tiara and all. The dress you thought symbolized happily ever after.
The dress you spent months saving up for. The dress that made you feel beautiful, hopeful and in love.
The dress, a strapless, beaded beauty, size 4, dry cleaned with all the fixings.
The ex. The asshole. The man you thought spoke the truth during your vows. The same man who had a nasty habit of escorts and cocaine. The same man who squandered all your savings and lost your forever home. The man who tought you what a real man, husband, shouldn’t be.
