My Little Story Book

The drawings on my skin

It all started one I was around the age of 3. My mom would always say I would be the husband of an artist. I never really understood what she was talking about until I was older, and now I know what she meant.

From the age of 3 my mom would always find strange drawings on me. Growing up I was never really into art and could barely draw stick figure. So of course my mom would always question where the drawings had came from. One day she even found me head to toe in sharpy as a kid, and she distinctly remembered never allowing me to use sharpy growing up. Well until I got older that is, but that happened one I was around 5. It took forever to get off so of course I remembered the incident to.

That was when she realized that I wasn't the one doing the drawings, but someone else. From that day one she told everyone I would be the husband of an artist. She was way to proud of it to. My father would always come up with some kind of witty remark like finally someone who can keep up with your artisticness. Yeah like I said I never really understood what they were talking about until later on in life. The drawings never really bothered me until I hit near the end of middle school.

Middle school the time us almost teenagers start to think it's time for us to begin adulting. Trust me kids when I say stop. You don't want to adult until it's time for you to. Though I get it. You want to be like the big kids and soon you'll be gong to high school aka hell. Where they treat you like adults or so they say. You really don't get treated like any abult until well you act like one. Even then you don't always get treated like one. So back to the story.

The drawings we're starting to annoy me. People could see them and some even assumed I could draw. I'm telling you this now once again I can't even draw stick figures so how could I draw what's on my body. I'd have to keep telling people that I wasn't an artists, and I have no clue who was the artist. It went on forever and at some point I stopped wearing clothes that would show my skin. Shorts were a no, t-shirt or tank tops were a no, anything that could show where the drawings were, were a no. I restricted what I could and couldn't do because of them. It was like they were controlling my life at this point. Even with sings and drawings on other people skin I still didn't want people to see them on mine. Their were little just doodles that most kids would draw on themselves. Mine weren't. They were extravagant masterpieces.

In high school I did the some as I did near the end of middle school. It wasn't till I hit college when I began to truly except what was happening. I had learned why I had these drawings, and u also learned their was someone out there with the same ones as me. It turns out in our world when ever you write or darw something on you skin it shows up on the person you are destined to be with. So hiring college I decided to look for this person. I wanted to know who they were and why they did all these drawings knowing it would show up on me as well.

So I took classes in history and biology to understand more on how this was possible. At the sometime I looked for the mysterious person behind the pen.

Days, weeks, months, even years pasted and I still hadn't found them. I gave up think maybe I was never meant to find them. Sitting in a cafe like all cliches I had a pen just laying there. That's one it hit me. The drawings and writing could go both ways. So mr. Genius me decided to write on my hand. 'Hey silly question but can you see this?' After writing that I could feel my heart pounding as I waited for the response. It felt like forever.

'Yes.' It had respond. It actually responded. I freaked, there was actually a chance I could find them. So I began to ask them questions and they did the same. We told story's of our life's, so much more. Eventually we figured we'd meet, and we did. We set up a date and we finally saw each other face to face.

That was the moment I know what my mom was telling me. Looking at the person behind the pen I know that it was them. I know who I wanted to be with, and ever since that day I've told them that I love them. Ever since the first drawing I loved them.