It was love at first sight when Matt walked into the room. Our eyes met, and all I could do was stop and stare at the tall, dark and handsome eyelashes framing his eyeballs.
The room was filled with women batting their lids for Matt’s attention, but he was looking at me. Why? Mine are so short and stubby!
But, it was as if the world stood still and all that existed was Matt, me and his 478 lid hairs. We butterfly-kissed without speaking, and I couldn’t wait to take him home, whip out that mascara wand and slather that shit all over his bare cilia.
Our first night together was amazing, a night of passionate application I’ll never forget. We did it in front of the mirror so we could both watch with animalistic rapture. His lashes curled slightly at the tip, hitting the spot on my curved brush over and over again. Then, we came at the same time to a single mutual conclusion: No one would love his lashes more than me.
Though Matt has very little personality and the rest of his body does little for me, I knew I wanted to see him exclusively. Even the annoyance of his weird quirks – like stealing my dog as a joke – dissipate when his lashes are near.
Even after he ruined my birthday by baking weed into my cake without telling my friends and grandma, I still couldn’t break up with him. One look at those spider lashes after a shower… and I’d just melt!
Things were going well for six months until he started working later and later, not coming home until the wee hours. Six months in, I finally confronted him: “If you’re not having wet n wild® eyelash sessions with me, then you’re obviously getting it somewhere else!”
He told me I was crazy, “obsessed with his lashes” and said I was jealous, insecure, and paranoid.
I walked up to him slowly, looked him dead in the lashes, and asked: “Then, whose Givenchy Noir Couture 4 In 1 Mascara is that on your shirt collar, hmmm?! You know I can’t afford that shit.”
His silence spoke the ugly truth. Though his lashes were voluminous, they were not monogamous.
Matt’s lashes and I broke up soon after. I’ll admit I was crushed for a long time, unable to even look at another man’s eye hairs. But, now in a weird, twisted way, I’ve finally learned to love my own cilia and how important self-care via expensive lash extensions truly is for my self-worth.