Tattooed Moon by Tiana Laveen Page B

something heavy, something soaked in shed tears and a throbbing heartache buried under blood-soaked cotton.
    “You can’t see this from my vantage point yet, but it is turning out really nice.” His lips curved as he eyed his handiwork with satisfaction.
    “I’m sure it is. I can’t wait to see it.” Her eyes moistened. She quickly shut them as the opera music continued to play, and a silence filled the room.
    “You don’t have to close your eyes if you don’t want,” he offered in a soft tone. She slowly opened them and looked at him through the mirror.
    “If you want to cry, you can. Tears are healing. Each tear has a specific reason, a meaning. They help with the abolition of emotional, mental and spiritual poisons. Unfortunately, we tend to keep pain derived from mourning in our bodies, in our gut.”
    …And his words hit her in her core.
    “That pain causes problems with our sleeping, self-awareness, digestion, emotional well-being, and self-esteem. We may have a skewed vision of the world as we fall onto the lap of negativity. We may lose meaningful friendships, not because they left us in our time of need, but because we’ve changed… we’ve become anti-climactic with our behavior, soul suckers. We don’t mean to be, but our soul is needy , and we don’t like that…”
    Keep talking to me, baby…
    She blinked to chase away the tears she still was too ashamed to let him see again just yet…
    “The tears help cleanse that and whenever we try to block them from falling, we keep a bit more of that hardness inside of us. It’s like needing to sneeze, but delaying it. We are keeping the allergens in, when we need to let them go. We allow the grief to turn into a monster, and eat us from the inside out. So…I want you to cry, if that’s what you need… Keep your eyes open; they are trying to help you see the truth…”
    All she could do was sniff and tell herself to ignore this man’s advice. To fight it, for all she was worth. But, he just wouldn’t let her heart go… He kept squeezing and squeezing, until she’d have to relinquish herself. This was what she feared the most for she couldn’t hold back much longer.
    “Tattoos, if done for the right reasons, are a transcendent experience. Just like sex, just like taking care of your health, nurturing yourself…”
    Something rather odd started happening. The man’s voice was soothing her again, even more than before, right in time with the music, as if he were delivering spoken word. It was one of the strangest and most beautiful things she’d ever experienced. So, she gave herself permission to follow his train of thought, to kick her internal battle to the curb and cling tight to his suggestion…and the tears flowed. Quiet and slow, they fell. She smiled through it all, but they kept coming, sliding over her cheeks, down to the towel that soaked them up. He continued on working, a peaceful expression on his handsome face as if he, too, were somehow released from bondage due to her free-flowing expression of immense grief. Without missing a beat, he handed her a tissue, then went right back to work, as if nothing were happening.
    I want to know more about you, Julian…a whole lot more.
    What an incredible man, an odd man, a wise man, beyond his years. Responsible, caring and smart. A bit of a smart ass at times, but that was a small price to pay for all of his other wonderful qualities. She’d never encountered a man like him in all of her life.
    Maybe he is my type after all…
    After a few more minutes, she drifted away… She hadn’t even noticed she’d fallen asleep until he gently shook her awake.
    “Oh…” she moaned, coming to her senses. The snapping his gloves roused her the rest of the way. She watched him snatch them off and toss them in a nearby trashcan full of blood dabbled cotton and debris.
    “You’re all finished. Are you ready to see it?”
    “Yes!” She sat up, excited beyond compare, but then he gently