He came home smelling like the shop. Gloves, green soap, dettol. It used to make me want to jump him as soon as I got a whiff of him in the car. I want to curl up into that scent mixed with his.
Now it sends me into a panic/anxiety attack and makes me want to vomit, as does the thought of walking into the shop, going past his room (forget about into it) or hearing about his day. Some days I can’t even drive past it.
I am hoping by putting it out there I’ll work through it, because it’s ridiculous. Eleanor Roosevelt said no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. While I am not feeling inferior, I have always applied that to so many feelings, and this is one of them. I just need to stop letting this person make me feel this way. I just can’t remember how.
