(Warning: this post contains graphic images.)
This post is not for the weak of heart.
I really wish I didn’t have to write this post.
But I have to. And I’m hoping writing this will ease the pain in my heart.
Some months back, Linda, a very sweet polish lover from Canada, sent me a message about a possible swap. I said yes immediately and was so happy when she offered to get some Lynnderellas for me the next time she opened her shop.
I wrote to her: “I’ve been dying to get my hands on Lynnderellas but didn’t know how!”
Today, I finally got the package from Linda. Tatin’s friend Karen brought them home from the US and Tatin handed them to me at dinner. She sent me a lot of goodies (I promise you’ll see them all once I’ve taken proper pictures) and I was overwhelmed and overjoyed.
I opened the package at dinner, removed the Lynnderellas from their bubble wrap and marveled at how pretty they were. Linda had gotten Cauldron Drippings, Gotta Love Brains and my favorite, Connect the Dots, for me. I told my friends about Lynnderella, how she’s a glitter goddess, how people have gone crazy over her, how hard it is to buy her shades because they sell out really fast.
I was really excited about my new bottles. I wanted to swatch Connect the Dots immediately but I had just painted my nails and had glitter on the tips of my nails. I felt that Connect the Dots needed a blank glitter-free canvas so I decided to wait.
We watched a movie, went out for crepes and went home. All my pretty bottles were safe in their bag.
But when I got out of the car, the bag’s handle slipped from my fingers. It wasn’t a long drop and the bag landed upright so I thought nothing of it.
I got ready for bed, grabbed my computer and sent Linda a super hyper thank you e-mail. Then I started poring over Lynnderella’s website and updating my Lynnderella wish list. I had just listed down “Happy Holo-Daze” and “One Nutty Fruitcake” when I reached for the bag of polish to get my pouch that was also in it.
Weird, I thought, I smell polish.
My heart started beating faster. Everything else was in slow motion. As I reached for the bag and started removing its contents, my brain was going, “No no no no no no, this isn’t happening, no no no no no.”
Then I saw it. The pool of black and white. At the bottom of the bag.
And “no no no” became “NO NO NO NO.”
Because yes, my bottle of Connect the Dots had broken. My favorite. The bottle I was most excited about. And there was nothing left, nothing I could still save.
Just looking at this hurts. I didn’t know what to do. I swear, I considered just dipping my nails in the pool of polish just so I could wear Connect the Dots even once. But it would be too messy.
The bag is still here, right beside me. I couldn’t force myself to throw the bottle out yet, I’m not ready.
All these “shouldn’t haves” and “could haves” keep running through my head.
I shouldn’t have removed the bubble wrap. I could have waited until I got home. I could have gotten out of the car before picking up the bag. I shouldn’t have been so damn klutzy. I should have tried it on – even over the glitter. I could have been more careful.
But it’s too late now.
I feel really bad about it. And I’m surprised at how painful it is. I know some people would say, “It’s just polish, get a grip!” But I am seriously heartbroken. So heartbroken I actually cried.
I’m sorry, Linda, for breaking your gift. I really didn’t want it to happen. I’m sorry, Lynnderella, I should have taken better care of your creation. I’m sorry, Connect the Dots, I didn’t even get to wear you.
But I promise you – Connect the Dots will be mine one day, somehow, some way.
Now I’m going to go to bed with tiny pieces of black and white glitter all over my fingers and hope I wake up feeling a little better.