In Which I Am Tattooed

Yo, Gentle Reader. This is the story of how and why I got my solitary* tattoo.

You’ve heard me discuss Ex-Husband exhaustively.

Can't help lovin' that man of mine

Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine

Well, shortly after we began speaking again – scandalously shortly, actually: we rode together to a party, and people weren’t aware that we were on good terms again – we had a long conversation. That conversation is actually why I refer to him as Ex-Husband; it legitimized the tumultuous length of my adulthood. It recognized the bizarre relationship and Romantic Friendship, the codependency, the years of on-again-off-again. It was a gift, and one that has been healthy, healing. We arrived at N.’s party; I introduced him to an acquaintance as “my ex-husband,” for the first time, and we mingled†.

Now, he’s extensively tattooed – for my Ex-Husband, tattoos are both hobby and obsession. To be honest, I’ve always thought that while they’re attractive, they’re a bit of a waste of money – usually when we were arguing about whether we’d be able to pay bills, and he was showing off a new one. I’m all for creativity, bodily freedom, and self-expression, but those things are expensive. At any rate, I try not to impose my views on anyone else’s body, so while I thought they were a bit silly, I just refrained from getting any, myself.

Well, it came to pass that Ex-Husband was relocating to Germany for long, boring, reasons.

A Girl

A Girl

We were nearly inseparable during this period, as always – when we’re speaking. A month or so before he was supposed to fly out, I brought up the idea of getting matching tattoos, together – I’m emotionally unstable, as you may have gathered, and no matter what else is going on between he and I, or either of us and the world, he’s been there for me in a crisis, when I’m locked in a bathroom, sobbing on the floor to the point of vomiting, or when I feel lonely. Beyond all others, he has been stalwart, steadfast, and reliable on that score. With him abroad, I’d no longer have that available – well, not as readily§.

Therefore, we went in to get matching tattoos. When I was feeling lost, nearing self-harm, or about to become hysterical, I could look at it and remember that I’m not alone in this world. Since his name is Patrick – oh, well – we went with standard clovers. Three leaves – we haven’t exactly brought each other luck. It hurt rather less than I’d expected – although it took about an hour longer than a tattoo of that size ought to have, according to Ex-Husband. His was done in a quarter of the time, though, so I guess it averages out? At any rate, since I never got a ring, this will have to do.

Tat

*********

*Okay, so it’s small and lame by itself. I’m thinking about getting some to keep it company. Also, there’s this marvelous thing where they inject a loved one’s cremated ashes into the ink or something, and I want to get one for my Dad, sometime soon.

†I like to imagine that the other party-goers gasped once we were out of earshot and said things like “Merciful Heavens! Was that the Doctor – with his Ex-Husband? They arrived together?” and then there was a susurrus of interesting gossip about the situation.

§ At least once a week I harass him online for the same purposes I used to harass him on the telephone. He is just as supportive.

Advertisements

About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
This entry was posted in Adventures, Drama and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to In Which I Am Tattooed

  1. Pony says:

    It’s a cute clover. I like it.
    When you’re ready for more, hit me up. My guy in Parkland is awesome.

  2. ekgo says:

    Everyone should have such loving, supportive exes.
    You may have the only living one on the planet.

    So, funny (to me) story that is somewhat related and all about me because I am vain:
    My sister, her friend who was also my boyfriend-at-the-time, and I all decided to get inked up one night so we drove to Denver and went to an artist the BFAtT knew. He was available for the evening and took us all in. Noelle went first and got a little heart because she was just in it for the spontaneity and didn’t really plan a tattoo. I don’t remember what BFAtT got. I brought my favorite dragonfly image to have stamped into my skin. And you are right: EXPENSIVE! I wasn’t having any color done and the tattoo was only to be about an inch and a half by an inch and I wasn’t even getting any lines inside the wings and it would have been $80 (around 10 years ago)
    I went last and the guy was sort of cranky by that time, though I’m not sure why. I was lying there in the chair and he asked my name and I said, “Erica,” and WOAH! He emotionally threw up all over me for the hour and a half it took to get that tattoo on my skin. His last girlfriend, the one who broke his heart, the one he was going to marry, was named Erica. I heard all about it. I listened and said perhaps-appropriateish things here and there.
    When he was done, I saw he’d added a ton more detail than we’d agreed upon – sworls in the wings, shading, etc. THEN he said that he really appreciated me letting him get that all off his chest and he charged me half price for the tattoo. I walked out of there with a hug from him and extra money in my pocket and thought to myself, “HOLY HELL! I am going to become a therapist for tattoo artists!” And I haven’t gotten another tattoo since.
    The end.

    And I have to go home now, so really, The End.

    • Tyler J. Yoder says:

      That’s an incredible tattoo story! I love it – I’ll have to give that a shot. Although it probably won’t work for me, because I’m weird about strangers in person and also weird about emotions.

      Yeah, Ex-Husband’s pretty great. I love him.

      • ekgo says:

        Yeah, if you’re not keen on having a stranger get angry then morose while telling you sordid details of his life, perhaps you should not engage in psychotherapy for tattoo artists. Or other people you do not actually know. Even if it does result in a great deal.

        • Tyler J. Yoder says:

          Come to think of it, I’m probably better at stranger’s emotions than my own. Also? I love a good bargain.

          • ekgo says:

            Well, there you go! Your next tattoo could be much more intricate as well as cheaper! Or piercing, though they tend to not take nearly as long so you won’t have as much time to glean personal information that you didn’t actually want to hear.

Have something to say, darling? Don't be shy!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s