There are days I have plenty of sad topics to cover but I like to find a positive from a negative. Take my ex-boyfriend. No really, take him!
I will liken him to Wentworth Miller (actor). Are you familiar with him? I’ll help, Prison Break. Full body tattoos, yeah!!!! Deep breath and Gay. Yep, ladies can’t have him. He’s into guys, which is fine. I used to have a picture of him on a pinboard. C’mon, we all did. It’s nice to dream.
But gay? Gay! We’re fine. The other team scores another one but my ex, I digress, poster on my pinboard and my stepdaughter (yeah, it was brief, at the time I had a step-daughter.)
She asked her dad if the photo was of him? He looked at me and I smiled a little and shook my head. Now, I thought we had been together about four years, but apparently, we had not been. I guess because he sent mixed messages. I like provincial furniture and decorations. He suggested if I could save some money, we could have a trip to France.
Me, now? So, I can have another fucking holiday to the most romantic place in the world with a so-called boyfriend who didn’t have the same ideas for our relationship that I did. FUCK NO! Thank you.
I don’t have any tattoos. I always intended to and I think there’s still time, but while I don’t have tattoos, it would appear I am into scarification in a purely accidental way.
I recently briefly lent my arm on an oven tray. I noticed it quickly because it’s my ‘good’ arm and it was on the soft inside of that part of my arm, so for the rest of the night anything I did with my right hand, that part of my arm brushed up against something tortured.
I managed to get some cream a huge bandaid on it by myself. The bandaid stayed on my arm all night, but the arm not fully protected.
Wounds on my good arm are not easy to dress myself. Not impossible, but definitely a challenge.
A few days later I was at my regular chemist where the staff recognise me. I showed her my large bandaid covered arm and I made my little joke “I don’t have tattoos, but it would seem I’m into Scarification” it took her a moment, but she got it.
I was a little self-conscious of people seeing the bandaid and thinking I’d attempted self-harm. I would have to puk that.
I’m actually right-handed, so sorry I would harm my left arm. I couldn’t do this to my right arm. Right?
And for a while, I wouldn’t even feel it on my left arm. This got rather muck, didn’t it? A long way to show off my non-battle scars.