my scars are a part of me.

Today was awesome. So busy, Ive been out and about since early this morning! but we got all the supplies for the play, the biggest stash of food ever, and it's great.

I saw this picture when I was looking for things for my blog, and i was instantly so excited! other people feel like that too!!! Today i was getting a thick foundation for the play makeup, and I was testing it on my wrist to see if it was the right color. I blended it in, and my scars were suddenly gone! not completely, but just light pink instead of the darker purply red they usually are. And on one side i was excited, because i could cover them up for the play, and not so many people would notice and stare. but on the other side, just like the picture says, i felt lost.
The marks on my wrists, they are a constant reminder of what I've lived through. They're sometimes a reminder to never go back to cutting so deep. Other times, they tempt me to cut again. Why do I need them? why do they define me? I keep thinking about it, but I can't explain it, even in my head. when i have new cuts, I like to look at them. They look so pretty, the dark  crimson against the light of my skin.
They shouldn't look pretty to me.

I can't figure out why they appeal to me so much. i look for scars on other people's wrists, and if I happen to see some, I feel an instant bond with that person. Maybe that's more normal. I mean, having the same problems as a person can make you feel kinship.

But I still can't understand this strange attachment. Maybe I should stop thinking about it so much... who knows. oh well.