One little, two little, three little…

Needles.

I’m going to buy needles soon. I’m going to bring them to him. I’m going to ask him to put them in me. As many as he likes, wherever he likes.

I am terrified of needles. Just reading threads on needle play, and looking at a website that sells them (sets of 100!?! Seriously?), made me queasy. I have been afraid of needles for as long as I knew they existed.

My health has kept needles firmly in my life; blood draws, IVs, shots. Though all these things are dwindling as my health improves. The fear never went away. Diabetic friends say they just got used to it, but my exposure to needles was never that consistent. The fear stayed, though it calmed some (my eyes no longer black out at every blood draw and I only set off the blood pressure monitor once during the two years of IVs). I can’t watch needles go into my own flesh, or anyone else’s, not even on TV. The very idea of unnecessary needles knots my stomach and chills my spine.

But I will do this, for him.

For us. For the darkness.

But mostly, for him.