It might be obvious, but I can’t really breathe through my nose that well. I never have been able to. I remember being a kid and some Korean ladies saying to my mother, “she would be pretty if her nose would just stop running…”

It’s so weird what sticks in your head forever. So much I cannot remember, but these tiny fragments of memory get lodged in there and I know I will take them to my grave. For this, I have always tried to hide my allergic tendencies from all, lest it mar my beauty further. I am sincerely unashamed of my vanity.

I want my nose to stop running. I want control over my mucous membranes. This is what has led me to my fate, where I am now, slave to – nasal spray. I have been good for years, not relying on the drugs that really only make things worse. Neti pots and saline solutions filled my days, air purifiers – not just one but two pointed directly at my face – running all night long. I did yoga and let my face be cradled in the toilet seat like contraptions that punctuate massage tables. My face would drain with the seasons and I was happy to let nature take its course with my nose. Nasal destiny was not in my hands.

I wanted control, and I thought Afrin would give it to me, and it worked for a time, but now, I can’t do without it. It started in earnest in London, where I broke down at the chemists and asked for a bottle from behind the counter. Since then, I have used it every day, in both nostrils, whether I need it or not. It’s crazy, and it hurts, and I have to get off it, but is there a rehab for that? How stupid – when people have serious issues with drugs, alcohol, gambling, food – addiction is ruinous and cruel and plays unfairly with us all, but my jones, my monkey on my back – it’s so dumb – how could I go to treatment for something that silly? Nasal spray. I am an addict. I want a dry nose. I want to breathe through it. It costs me about $3.00 a month. It’s so lame, but it’s still pain, right?