“I swear, baby, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” I mutter through gritted teeth, trying and failing to hide the pain I’m in. But even if I wasn’t such a horrible actor, you’d still be able to see through me. You always have been.

This whole ordeal is kind of reckless, definitely a little bit stupid, but we’ve thought a lot about it and now we’re doing it. Matching tattoos. A small date right on the sides of our ribcages—our anniversary. Some may say it’s cheesy but we don’t care.

After being together for 4 years, I’m sure about you. If not, I wouldn’t be doing something so permanent. You’ve stuck by me through everything, since before everything. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life, so that’s why we’re doing this.

Even if you’re scared shitless.

Gripping onto my hand like you’re the one with a needle piercing your skin over and over, you don’t leave my side. I can see the terrified look in your eyes, fearing for when it’s your turn. Even with my reassurance. I just hope you don’t back out.

Where I have been getting tattoos for a couple years, your skin is still clear. The ribcage definitely isn’t the smartest place for a first, but you chose it, not me!

“Baby, I promise, it doesn’t hurt as bad as you think. It’s just like a pinch.” I rub my thumb over the back of your hand, trying to calm you down.