It’s funny, the things that stick with you. The shampoo tucked behind the curtain in your shower. It’s girl shampoo. And there’s a million possibilities as to why it could be there, the most disappointing of which could be that there is a woman there often enough to leave her shampoo there. You look at me funny when I even want to use your shower. The least disappointing of these possibilities is that you simply like girl shampoo. I suppose I could just ask you. But that would be insinuating that I care. And we don’t do that.
I stood up for myself. For the first time since I’ve known you, I’ve said what was really on my mind: I don’t like the way you treat me. This is not the end all be all, but it sure as hell is progress. It’s probably pretty sad that I regard this small thing as progress, but one day I am going to be free and clear of this.
