It all started with a breakup text and a bottle of cheap wine.
Technically, I was the one who ended it, but when the guy you’ve dated for two years, someone you were once deeply in love with sends a simple “Good luck, you’ll find someone better” message five minutes later, it still stings, it stings so bad.
So, naturally, I did what any woman with a bruised ego and too much free time on a Saturday would do, I opened my maps app and searched for tattoo shops near me.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a butterfly on my wrist or something simple on my ribs. I just wanted something that screamed a new era.
Soon enough, I found myself standing outside a place called Ink Therapy, where the “I” in Ink had been replaced with a lightning bolt. The logo looked cocky. So did the man behind
