When January came around I felt like I needed a little more change. I knew I wasn't preppy Tarin anymore, and so I decided I needed to change my name. I'd been thinking about it heavily for months. I felt like all of my bad history is attached to my name, and I wanted something different. Something to fit the new me I was becoming. And so I went with Caycia (pronounced like kay-see-ah). It came to me one night when I was dreaming and I figured it was perfect. I was now Caycia Clemons.
The day after I changed my name, I got a fairly large background role in a hit movie. I knew that a new name change would be good for my life and it worked. It felt like I was finally getting something good and it felt like my new name was the reason for that.
When February rolled around I needed yet another change. So I changed my hair. I cut it short. My hair originally flowed down right past my breasts, nearly touching my belly button. I cut it so it sat perfectly upon my shoulders, then I dyed it. I dyed it a bright blonde, and when I looked in the mirror I was nearly unrecognizable. I definitely was no longer Tarin.
In March I got my first tattoo, a symbol of my undying love for both my family and myself. I got a small infinity symbol tattooed on the inner side of my left wrist. The pain was nearly unbearable at first, feeling the needles move in and out of my skin, but when the numbness took over, I loved the feeling. I loved the tattoo even more, and before I left the tattoo shop I was already planning out my next tattoo.
I often got in touch with my mother, asking her to send out the rest of my things. I'd had her send out the rest of my clothes and the rest of my photos that I hadn't collected when I'd left in the first place. I hadn't wanted reminders of Louis' and my relationship, but I knew now that I was completely over it. I understood that he was a part of my past and there was nothing I could do about it. But I was over it, so it didn't matter. And I was a different person now.
When April showed up, I decided to get some piercings. I already had four piercings in my ears, but I got a cartilage piercing in my left ear, and I also got my nose pierced.
Not only did I feel like a different person since Louis left me, I actually looked like a different person. When I FaceTimed with my mother she didn't even recognize that it was me until she heard my voice. This is exactly what I wanted. This fresh start was cleansing away all of my worries about my past. I knew that if I went back home for a visit, that no one would recognize me as who I was, not even my friends whom I hadn't talked to in the year and a nine months since graduation.
When it was June, I had decided to get another piercing and another tattoo. So I went to the tattoo shop and got my belly button pierced and drew up my new tattoo. I was getting a daisy tattooed on my lower stomach. It represented a few things. First of all, it represented my love for daisies, they were my favorite flower. Secondly it represented Louis . . . in a way. Every time he'd see me he'd bring me bouquets of daisies and he knew they brought a smile to my face. So in a way this tattoo represented the past me and what I had become now. I placed it lower in my stomach, sort of in my v-line for a specific reason. That reason would be Louis. I wanted this tattoo to be more intimate; I had it for so many personal reasons.
I had the guy sketch it out, and he placed the outline on my body. He checked that I was okay with everything and when he was sure, he asked me to sit in the chair. I had to shimmy the side of my pants down my hip, so the guy tattooing me could tuck one of those blue cloths in my pants and begin the tattoo. I also had to pull the bottom of shirt up a little bit, being careful to not expose my healed scars. I still wasn't comfortable with people knowing about my self-harm.
About half an hour into the tattoo I began going over the moments Louis and I had two years ago. I had to admit, though he ripped my heart out, we had such a good time. What we had was love; he was my first love. I do miss him of course, but it had been two years and I hadn't heard from him. I knew I never would, but I didn't want to. I was better off without him. I was proud of what I had become, of who he had turned me into. I really don't even know how I'd react if I saw him. Would I throw myself at him? Would I punch him? I really don't know.
Interrupting my thoughts I heard a bell go off, signaling someone had opened the front door of the tattoo shop. I turned my head right, looking at who had walked in. It was awkward trying to make out who had walked in, as I was lying down and my eyes had to adjust to looking at someone from such a different angle.
I had to hold myself back from sitting up when I finally recognized who had walked in. I tried desperately to keep my cool. Was he really here right now? Damn did he look good, but of course he always had. I guess he was getting a tattoo. I wanted to get up and say hi, but I couldn't. I looked back down at my tattoo to see that I was nearly done. The color was being added.
But then when I turned my head back to where I had last seen him, he wasn't there. I realized he was walking this way. "Hey Jim," he said to the guy tattooing me.
"Oh hey man. I'm almost done with her," he stopped tattooing for a second to signal towards me. I mustered a smile and then Jim continued tattooing me.
He looked my way and I squirmed under his intense gaze. "Hey" he said in my direction.
I nearly fainted, "hey," I squeaked out still trying to keep my cool.
Was this really happening right now?