The Brightest Light of Sunshine

Four days later, I stand in front of the building where everything started.

With full confidence in my stride, I push the door open and step inside the empty tattoo parlor. It’s way past closing hours, but Cal insisted on doing this alone. Just the two of us.

I press a soft kiss on his lips before sliding into the tattooing chair, more at ease than I’ve ever thought I would feel.

It’s thanks to the man adjusting his black rubber gloves in front of me, and thanks to the fact that I’m growing into who I was always meant to be. Before everything happened, and despite my circumstances.

I can feel it inside my bones and in a few moments, I’ll have it inked in my skin forever.

“Ready, sunshine?” He smiles, pure adoration and silent encouragement radiating from those beautiful dark orbs.

“Ink me up.”

As the sharp needle pierces through my skin on the side of my ribcage, I feel the weight of my past sliding off me. There will always be a remaining layer of pain within me, a scrape of reminisce that will always walk along beside me, holding my hand even if all I want is to run free.

I’ve come to terms with it in the past four years, and my resolve to water this seed that is me so I can grow and bloom has only intensified in the past few months.

This journey of uncomfortable healing won’t end with this tattoo—I never expected it to, anyway. From now on and for the rest of my days, I will walk beside the pain, the grief, and the fear, and I will learn to let go of their hand so I can be free. I’m already starting to.

When Cal finishes his art on my skin, he silently hands me a mirror. My eyes swell with unshed tears the moment I spot those two little suns and the beautiful calligraphy staring back at me.

A reminder by the two men I love the most in the world, sealed into my body by the man I’m slowly starting to realize is the love of my life in all the ways that matter—my best friend, my confidant, my partner, my forever.

“I love it,” I mutter through the tears just as the pad of his gentle thumb wipes them all away. “I love it, Cal.”

I love you.

His smile is nothing short of devastating, but so are his next words.

“Bloom with grace, my sunshine. Whatever happens, like you were always meant to.”