Hello People,
Not sure who is still reading these posts. I write mostly for me but there’s nothing wrong with that. I am not quite 24 hours back from my international trip. What I have noticed in that time frame is that food tastes off. It’s too salty or greasy and kinda bland unless it’s got a kick. I am not sure if I noticed that before but it’s been five years since I was out so there’s that. Also, good lucking out to flight attendants. I wanted a Fanta and she didn’t have any. She said I can give you some orange juice and Sprite and when I tell you when the balance was right that was some tasty Fanta substitute. I miss the food a lot. I miss the vibe. I miss the folks I know there and even though my body was like girl what is wrong with you I miss the tattoo studio where I got my first tattoos by someone who looks like me and a woman ever. One I had to get as pay off on a dare and one I had to get for me. I say had to get for me because I have had this design sitting in my files since 2017. I remember why I did it then but in the ensuing years it had honestly slipped my mind.
I was basking in the feeling of just being connected to my submission. It was 16 years after my father’s death and the Dutchman had seemed like a gift that I could not have asked for in my wildest dreams. I wasn’t quite keyed into the fact that as much as I wanted it to be perfect and forever, that he had perfectly acceptable reasons to not want that with me or at that time. Love makes us silly sometimes. Especially when we aren’t quite as adept at it as we think we are. Regardless, I remember discussing with the Dutchman the idea that I felt stitched back together. That I wasn’t a shiny new submissive or love struck girl but one who was aged and had been damaged and patched over the years. That led me to thinking about a tattoo I could vaguely describe to him but was concerned it would get damaged in the future if some willful sadist let loose on my skin. He convinced me that it would just add to the beauty of the tattoo which I honestly agreed with. I added some details to an idea and let tattoo artists give me their best ideas. I bought several of the designs because I wasn’t sure what I would end up with eventually but the one that caught my heart looks a lot like this one. Mine isn’t as dark and the tag below has had the pertinent information removed but they were dates regarding two men who were very important to me. It wasn’t the Dutchman’s information because I am one of the superstitious tattoo folks that the only names that are safe are family and pets maybe. Plus, I knew about when the Dutchman’s birthday was but he was never big on celebrating it so it didn’t register for me. I should have known there was an issue then. I love celebrating birthdays of people I care about. Anyway. it’s been a minute since I got the design and just have never taken the time to make sure I could get it done. That’s not entirely true. I started looking for a Black woman to do it about a year ago but kept getting ghosted. So when I reached out at the beginning of the month to a POC tattoo shop in Amsterdam, I kind of expected the same thing to happen which would have been sad. I selected two WOC as the artists I wanted to work with and I linked up with one that has done the bulk of the design. We need to touch up some bits and maybe redo a few areas but your girl couldn’t spend more time in the chair than I had sprawled over a chair. She also did a forearm tattoo for me but that is out on my vanilla pages so I won’t share it here lol. I was happy is what you should know at the end of the day.
The other thing that I recognized was my last day to roam the city was the anniversary of my father’s death. 23 years and counting. Normally that day is a crap shoot for me. I can be on top of the world or so damn sad that I can’t function. I was neither. I was at peace. Amsterdam provides me a state of zen in general and that may have helped but I also walked around with people, ate food that I wanted including my favorite hot waffle and cold ice cream. I didn’t even think about what day it was, it was just very aware that it had transpired the next day when I was ready to thank everyone for giving me a new memory on what can be a rough day. I also started to think that the tattoo had really done physically what my heart couldn’t allow me to achieve. My heart still grieves the man that always made me feel safe and loved even when he was upset with me. I grieve what he could have been for his granddaughters and how my life may have been different had both of my parents moved in with me as they planned. I let my thoughts drift over to the Dutchman as well. I had only ever visited Amsterdam because of him. 2019 was an odd trip because we were loosely tethered at that point but he did try to come over. He couldn’t stay because he didn’t have ID that the hotel would accept so our visit was brief. It kind of felt like a hallmark for our relationship. Lots of potential, limited opportunity for full fruition. As I left, I thought we likely wouldn’t see each other again. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever go back without it hurting because he was the city for me. I did hurt but it was tattoo on my spine hurt mostly. I was pleasantly surprised about how much the city bloomed again for me. Rediscovering old places, stumbling upon new locations, reestablishing core memories and making brand new ones. The folks that went with me loved Vienna a bit more and that’s cool too because that means I can likely roam freely without running into most of them. The museum visit is what capped things off for me and as I was drifting off to bed, it dawned on me that I had tripped my way into closure. I often say closure is a great concept but isn’t something most of us can achieve. It’s a thing we keep chasing after and feeling bad when we don’t achieve it. It requires us to adult in ways that we may not be equipped with and that is a pain in the ass. My mind, heart and body finally said okay enough ma’am and I agreed. The city will always feel like home for me and if the world ever presents itself to me in this way will likely become my new home. I like the transportation, the people, the food and it’s so close to so many other places that I can be based there and still the rest of the continent as I choose. Just gotta convince my brother to move with me. So yeah I’m done babbling and I’m gonna try to get in the shower before bed so I can put some Aquaphor on my back and hopefully stop this random itching.
