A year ago today, which would have been one month out from having my breasts removed... the idea of 'someday' being ready for tattooing seemed like a 'dream' to me. Now that I'm here *shrugs* it just seems like a reality... not unlike other realities that get taken for granted or just plain overlooked. I would have thought that at this point I'd be on the edge of my seat, waiting for the day I finally got to to back to Dr. Miles' office, giggle with Cheryl, pick out some ink that matched the photos we took of my breasts prior them going into the 'toxic waste heap'...
I think that what this really all amounts to, is the fear of something else going 'wrong'. Not that there's any great risk associated with tattooing... hell, check out the rest of me ;) but I have a fear of pushing things too far, for the sake of vanity ... and having something go completely awry. After all, this isn't a hair cut or anything... it won't just grow back for another try, and it isn't a cupcake or a daisy chain or even a leg worth of swirls... it's just trying to get back what I wish I hadn't lost... and I'm not sure that's within the realm of reality?
BTW... for anyone reading this... this is a prime example of why I don't post here often ;) I 'try' to abide by the internal rule that if you have nothing good to say... say nothing at all ... nuff said ;)
