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Love leaves scars.

When you're 17 you think you rule the world, you think you know about love, and you think you know about the real world. Chances are, you don't and you know you don't, but you still live your live of friends, sex, drugs & rock n' roll. At 17, you find that 1 guy that catches your eye. That person who causes your heart to skip 2 beats. Love is blind.

I met Mike at a party I ditched school for. Well, it wasn't technically a party because only 5 people were there. It was supposed to be a birthday party for one of the girls I went with. Unfortunately, no one showed up. So for hours, it was me and 3 other girls sitting around, drinking, smoking, until there was a knock at the door. Of course, all of us ran like hell in fear that it was the birthday girl's dad. It wasn't. It was 2 guys.

One of their name's was Mike, and the other, Adam. Both where deadly cute, but Mike was the one who caught my attention. His green eyes, short black hair, tiny goatee. For an hour as we all lounged around, I kept catching him staring at me, then looking away. Finally, after a while I got up and sat next to him. "Hi." was the first thing I said. He said hi back. We then just dove into a conversation about how both of us ended up in that house. It took off from there.

I dated him for 6 months, and have been saying "I love you" for 3. I thought he was someone I'd be with for years, because it already felt like it. So, for his birthday, I decided to show him how much I loved him. No crappy CDs or anything, just a scar of his name on my ankle. So, 2am I sat at my computer desk staring at the spot where I'd permanently mark myself. I thought of what I'd use to cut his name with. I thought an exacto knife, but unfortunately mine was broken. And old. So I decided to use a small swtich blade that I use to carry around for protection with. It was nicely sharp, and had that new shine to it.

I wiped off the blade with rubbing alcohol, as well as my ankle. I thought of marking is name first as a guide, but decided just to do it. First line, that stingy pain. I went over it again, this time using the teeth of the blade, and acting like a steak knife, made a slight tearing noise, but it did the job. A nice open line, an inch long. I did the same for all the letter. 1 guide line, then once more over it with the teeth. The pain had numbed down quite a bit, which I was thankful for because I was deathly cold at the time. 5 minutes passed as I let it bleed, and clot out. I wiped over the letters, "MIKE" with a cotton ball soaked with alcohol (Ouch), then thought, "Okay that's good."

After another few minutes, I started to day dream and recalled a girlfriend of mine telling me how her uncle carved something into his arm and rubbed ink into like, creating a tattoo-like mark. So, I reached for the nearest pen, yanked the ink tube, and cut it open. Of course I thought of being ink poisoned. I've been stabbed with a pen before. 4 times, so I thought that maybe I'd be okay. Young, dumb, and in love, I was. I rubbed the ink into my skin. There was a slight burning sensation, and the mucky smell of the ink irritated me, but it was there. I decided to let it sit because I wanted it to stay there as long as possible, so I headed over to the kitchen for saran wrap, and scotch tape.

I added more ink, taped up my ankle, and layed down. By this time, I felt the pressure on my ankle, and I went the cuts whenever I moved my foot. I layed in bed with a smile on my face because I just proven my love for Mike. Too bad it didn't last.

the next day, I woke up with the plastic off, and my bed bloody and full of ink. My ankle was even stuck to my bedsheets. Angry and groggy, I yanked my foot off the bed and went to the bathroom where with toilet paper and spit, I wiped off the blood and ink. There it was. MIKE in blue letters. I washed it off with warm water, and patted it AnD ointment. That day, I went to Mike's place, and let him find it himself. And when he did, he didn't seem too happy. He looked at and said, "..you should'nt have done this." He said it as if he didn't love me as much as I loved him.

He got over it, accepted it, and liked it.

It wasn't until 3 months later I caught him rubbing his boner against a 97 pound blond.

The ink is gone, but MIKE will always be on my ankle.

Like I said, young, dumb, and in love.


submitted by: Anonymous
on: 22 June 2005
in Scarification

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