Permanent Black Ink

I can’t say this was on my list to do. Neither can I say that anyone would imagine me getting somethings that just seem out of the norm.

I still remember my ex telling me that his coworkers thought I looked so innocent. He looked like the play boy and I was just a nice girl. Now he’s married and I’m the complete opposite. How people’s perceptions are weird.

So here I am telling you that I got something that I never thought I would have wanted in my lifetime. A tattoo. Ink that is permanently on your skin, a story or perhaps just art on your body.

For the whole week leading up to the tattoo appointment, I never really thought about it. I guess I could say I didn’t have time but it never occurred to me. I just wanted the moral support but at the same time I wanted to see if I was strong enough to handle pain. Every second, minute, hour that passed I wasn’t scared. Yet the moment my artist put the sketch on my back, it hit me that I was doing this for real. That it was permanent and it would always be a part of me. I was shaking like a leaf inside. In my mind, I only wanted one person to support me but that person wasn’t there.

The needle hurt, I’m not so sure why people say it’s like a cat scratching you. It wasn’t like anything I could imagine. The artist’s hand kept going and going. Wiping away the ink, blood and sweat. I can’t say that the adrenaline kicked in to keep me going. It was my mindset that wanted to push through and the constant music piercing in my ear. The fact that the needle just kept dancing and leaping for moments to go back and touch the skin. It was hard to endure but it feels accomplishing at the same time.

So here’s my story and when I die, you’ll know how I feel and the thoughts I had in this lifetime.


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