One simple scent…

Jean Paul Gaultier ‘Le Male’;  I hate you.  Simply knowing you existence makes me want to vomit, but actually smelling you, having your scent waft past me, in the most innocent of locations, in an entirely different place, time, and context… makes me want to perform a lobotomy on myself.

It makes me want to choke, to scream, to cry, to crumple.

When I was in a relationship with my abuser, the scent of Le Male was intoxicating.  It made me want to swoon, and do all the good things described in romance novels.  The scent was him, the scent was our relationship, the scent was that time in my life – a time I thought was so exciting – a time where I felt sexy, and wanted, needed. Continue reading