I don't have any tattoos but I love them I love them on certain people for different reasons
I love the tattoo on my dad's chest. It's a bird. The colors now are faded but I remember what they looked like when I was a kid. They were vibrant and they made me smile when my dad would hold me.
My step-mom has a tattoo on her neck. It's two little holes with blood dripping down. When I was little I thought it was the coolest tattoo (still do) I would catch myself looking at the vampire bite and wondering if getting bit by a vampire would hurt as bad as that tattoo.
My dad also had another tattoo He had my step' mom's name in a heart, I think. He got that tattoo because he wanted people to look at it and ask, "Who's Denise?"
It was something that told a story and I loved that. I loved that he loved her enough to put her name on his body It was something permanent She would always be a part of him, even though he covered it up
Their story didn't last.
It faded over time and it got covered up with something else that I can't remember because it doesn't have story or meaning
It's purpose was to cover up her name and forget her face and forget all the years they spent together.
That vicious cycle that I was thrown into but never asked how it made me feel. Or what it would do to me growing up. Their tattoos tell stories ...but not my side of them