Today, while standing in the lunch line at work, a colleague commented on my tattoo of Monkey. He asked what the cat was holding if it was a moon. I replied that it was a banana. He looked at me bewildered, like WTF a banana. He then said, oh, I couldn’t tell, it almost looks like he is crushing the moon. I said no, it’s a banana, it was his favorite toy.

“Oh, I take it he isn’t alive anymore?”

“No, he isn’t.”

WTF dude. I know that tattoos are out there, on my skin, for everyone to see, but if you are going to comment, at least not fucking be awkward about it. It made me forget the visibility to the public the love that I have for Monkey, and that in that display, it could put me subject to awkward conversations.

But for you my love, I’d have 100 awkward conversations over. The public display of my love for you is forever, until the day I die, and we can meet again.

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