Today I had another three hours of work added to my tattoo, bringing the grand total to 17 hours and counting.
I am still in love with it and, oddly enough, I miss the pain when the interval between sittings is too long.
It seems each second of physical pain takes away something that hurts me emotionally. It’s a great exchange as I’m left with an increasingly beautiful piece of art on my back.
My mother has even nicknamed me canvas now. She will never get a tattoo herself but she’s been looking through artists’ portfolios with critic eyes and always says, “Yours looks better,” which is reassuring.
I always leave the tattoo studio exhausted. My body seems to use up a lot of energy to cope with the pain, draining me for a while. I came home and went to bed, hoping to get a couple of hours of sleep to recover. We went to bed extremely late last night after Raven had a mini-breakdown when she, somehow, lost half the file containing the script she had written for drama school due today – long story maybe for another time.
Her dad, however, got the times mixed up and showed up early, interrupting my attempt. She is a group captain and was asked to stay to help with the new students, which completely changed the schedule.
I wasn’t upset but it didn’t help. I ended up going for a drink with them before they went to his. We are still getting on and there have been no awkward attempts on his part to rekindle anything with me like he used to do. I hope it stays that way.
After getting back, I’ve been chatting to my writer friends, bitching about book reviews and insensitive comments, intertwined with all personal struggles we share. We have each other’s backs and today was my turn to be supportive, not the one in need.
It feels good to help but it left me daydreaming of random, easy and light conversations with someone special. It left me daydreaming of dirty thoughts and wanting. I could do with a little bit of attention and I promise I wouldn’t utter a single complaint about my life, my failed marriage and the pitfalls of the publishing market.
As I lay naked in my bed, my back covered in baby bottom cream, awkwardly on my side not to rub the tender bits of my back anywhere, I would love to spend the next couple of hours chatting… about travelling, about food, about fun nights, about sex… That would be perfect!