Monday, October 24, 2011


I was painting my nails (this color) and it reminded me of a time with the abusive ex.

I must have been about 19, so he would have been 25. We were in the Quarter and browsing a little gothy shop. We went to check out and I picked up a bottle of burgundy nail polish that was in a basket on the counter. He grabbed it from me and said, "That'll look good for when you have your hand wrapped around my dick" as he handed it to the salesguy with a wink.

I still remember how hard I cringed, how embarrassed I was, how fucking ashamed I was. The guy gave me this incredulous look and all I could do was look at the floor.

I think about that moment from time to time when I paint my nails to get dolled up. I stopped wearing "sexy" colors for awhile after that, started to wear matte blacks and grays and greens. Any time I do a conventionally sexy color, I think about that piece of shit and I still feel ashamed, just a little bit. I really hate to say I hate people but I'm as close as I can be to hate with him.

And for the record, I never wore that fucking polish for him or anyone. When Ravi and I were moving out, I found it in my basket of polishes and summarily threw it in the trash.

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