My friend holds the door open for me, and I take a step through the door. The studio is minimalistic. Clean. Like a hospital. Except there are black and white pictures on the walls, and new leather chairs instead of worn-out sofas. I can hear my heartbeats clearly. All other sounds are faded. My friend cheerily speaks to the guy behind the counter, but I don't register what either of them are saying. I'm too busy observing. Thinking. This is it. This is the last minute I can regret this decision. I can still turn around and walk out. My lips are dry. I try to wet them with my tongue, but it's just as dry. My whole mouth is sandpaper. I try to recall how excited I was about this. Try to hold on to the feeling of positive energy flowing through my whole body as we decided this. The nervous enthusiasm I felt when he brought up this idea. I see that my friend and the guy behind the counter are looking at me. I'm back in reality.

 

- Sorry?

- Do you want to go first?

 

Do I? I don't know. Yes. No. Yes. No. I change my mind too quickly. Doesn't that mean no? Should I really do this? Of course I should, I've been waiting for this moment for years. I've been dreaming about this day four nights in a row. I've been stroking my skin, imagining what it will look like.

 

- Absolutely!

 

The needle presses its way through my skin. It hurts, but it's nothing I can't handle. I'm happy I can't see it. I speak to my friend. He holds my hand. Soon it's there. Just minutes away.

 

As we walk out, I can't stop smiling. I did it. I actually did it. Tomorrow and all my remaining days I will have the words on my skin. Always & forever, I will be able to read the words on the back of my shoulder when I look in a mirror.