Readers share their true stories of terrible tattoos.
My boyfriend and I had been together for a whole six months.
Yes, I know that sounds like nothing to you, but to me that was a lifetime. So after we had already said our premature "I love you"s and talked marriage, we had decided we would be together forever.
To seal that naïve bond, my boyfriend -- we'll call him Jake -- suggested we seal our everlasting love with tattoos. And, of course, I blissfully agreed.
We got to the tattoo parlor and I was scared out of my mind, but it was for love. I went first and got his last name on my wrist, Tucay.
He went second and got the first letter of my name on his forearm. Yes, he only got the letter C. I should have known then that Jake was pretty much all bark and no bite.
We broke up two months later, due to the fact that he had another "love" that he simply could not live without. Turns out her name was Charlotte, and he had finished my C with her name.
Everyone told me to never get a boyfriend's name tattooed on my body, that I would live to regret it. Well, they were right, and now I have to take the well-deserved ridicule from all of my family and friends for the rest of my life.
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