Tomorrow’s Ink

I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow.

That feels good to say.

I’m getting a tattoo at Dragon Tattoo at 2pm and Penny — who’s doing it — was so kind when I spoke to her. Not rushed. Not awkward. Just genuinely understanding. I explained everything I’m dealing with, the need to be careful, the immune stuff — and she didn’t hesitate.

She’ll wear a face mask.

She’ll check in with me throughout.

She’ll make sure I’m okay the whole way through.

That alone made me feel safe.

The tattoo itself matters.

It’s going to be a semicolon butterfly, with the letter R in the bottom of the wing.

The semicolon is obvious to anyone who knows — it’s about choosing to continue when you could have stopped. About pausing, not ending. The butterfly is about change. Survival. Becoming something new without pretending you weren’t once in pieces.

And the R?

That’s for Ryan.

Not as a declaration. Not as a hope. Not as a way back.

 

I loved having the tattoo i want more and im looking at what i can get to have my scars covered

 

But because that whole messy, painful catfishing saga — the love, the loss, the shame, the heartbreak — was part of what pushed me to a place where I tried to take my own life.

And I survived it.

I’m healing from it.

I don’t need to erase him from my story to move forward. I can acknowledge that he mattered, that it hurt, that it changed me — without needing him in my present.

We’re not on speaking terms anymore. And I understand that.

I can be a little too much.

…okay. Okay. A lot 😄

But I’m also honest. I feel deeply. I love hard. And I’m learning how to turn that intensity inward instead of burning myself out trying to be chosen.

This tattoo isn’t about clinging to the past.

It’s about carrying the lesson with me — permanently, visibly, and without shame.

Tomorrow isn’t about pain.

It’s about reclaiming my body.

It’s about marking survival in my own handwriting.

And for the first time in a while, I’m genuinely excited about something that’s just for me.

Butterflies.

Semicolons.

Healing.

And a reminder, etched into skin, that I stayed.