Scars.

“

 Our scars make us know that our past was for real.”

— Jane Austen

This quote has had a very important place in my life for many years. It´s been ages since I got my first scar. I think everyone got one like this; reminder of your first ever biking accident or a little patch of pink skin immortalizing a story from your childhood. You know, I think scars are like photographs, in a way. Photographs you carry around with you all the time. It only takes one short glance and you are immediately reminded of the time, place and the cause of why this little beast will decorate your skin forever. 

Why am I talking about such a weird topic right now, you may ask? Well, when it comes to scars, I am the spokesperson of all the scarred people in the world. Okay, sorry for the exaggeration, but trust me, my scars could tell you stories which would make your hair stand up. So let´s start with the physical ones. 

It´s been years since I first walked into a hospital knowing that in few short moments, I would have to lie down naked on a table in a surgery room. Let me tell you, there are much nicer feelings in the world. But somehow, I always made it through and went on with my life. For those who don´t know, I have a weird condition that makes my joints wear down very fast and sometimes it results in me getting all chopped up by a group of skilled surgeons. And that´s exactly what happened on Friday. My right knee joint got used up so the time came again to collect some new scars on my already scarred knee. Of course, nothing in my life goes as easily as I plan, so I spent hours lying unconscious on the table, having doctors dig around in my knee, doing some extra stuff. When I woke up, it was already dark outside, but I was so sore and so out of it all that everything I wanted was to get lulled back to sleep. At least the drugs were serving me right. For all I know, I could have been asleep for days.. Wouldn´t even notice... So this is how it goes now: I am sitting in my living room with my leg all stitched up, sporting five brand new nasty scars. You know what´s funny? I don´t even care about those five red stripes. I got so used to it that the only thing that bothers me is the fact that I will be immobile for weeks now and that my bum, which was the only part of my body I liked will lose its Kardashian-esque shape :D

A very relatable quote by Nikita Gill

However, there are also emotional scars that are not so easy to ignore. And they don´t necessarily have to be connected with the fact that I look like the Frankestein´s monster from time to time.  Sometimes, it may concern people we grow to care about. Or the lack thereof... I´ve met some amazing people recently and I was lucky to make friends with them. We are constantly in touch the interest is mutual and I couldn´t be happier. Apart from my family, they are my rock now, they are the ones I can rely on. However, lucky that I am for them having my back, they are not the ones who should provide me with support and love. The person I should rely on somehow vanished from the face of the planet Earth and all the things he promised to be for me lie forgotten somewhere in the far corner of the cyber space. I know it sounds cheesy from the mouth (or the keyboard) of a 26y.o. person but the circumstances in which we met weren´t very relationship-friendly from the start. It all seemed that we grew stronger together with every passing month, overcoming the obstacles one at the time. And I couldn´t be happier. When it came time for us to roam the world as a couple, something didn´t click right and our paths started to split. Or better said, his path started to split from mine... or.. I am not sure, it never got explained properly, all I ever got were excuses that repeated themselves so frequently that I recognized a giant bullshit  that has been hiding in them for a long time.  So what to do now? Wait for another happy weeks full of Iloveyous and promises and the pleas to never let go and get kicked in the ass by another wave of bullshit?  Is there something wrong with me or is the problem on the other end? Honestly, I have no idea. The only thing I know is that this all left a huge scar on me. But it´s the kind of scar you can´t find anywhere on my skin. It´s hidden from the world, somewhere deep inside. The only thing left is to wait and see what story  this scar will tell. In the end, as Jane rightly claimed, they are there to remind us that our past was real. 

Until next time,

Čauko, Lenka :)