looking at my scars

a little over a month ago i became a sang donor. i’d been intending to be a sang donor from the very beginning, when i first knocked on the doors of the vampire community. but as things go, even after i met (online) the vampire whose sang donor i was to become we couldn’t meet up for almost half a year, as opposed to the ten days i had hoped for when i started this blog.

it was during this waiting time that i became a psi-donor, and there’s a considerable number of posts detailing my experience as such. it was interesting and good while it lasted, but in the end it wound down. when it became obvious that my sang vamp became very upset with my donating to other vampires i was not unhappy to stop.

i was unable to write properly about my first experiences donating sang, which i regret. i wish now that i had a fresh memory of it to look back on. what i can do, and do often, is look at the scars i carry. i think i’m not healing as fast as i might, because even the needle-mark from the third donation* is still faintly visible on the back of my hand. maybe that’s just in my head though, because for some reason it seems like all the old scars (which are three to ten years old) have become more visible this month.

i think off and look at the other scars much more often. there’s two of them. one on the inside of my left elbow, from the first donation. it has two small blobs, which change colour from purple to red. a few very small patches have a different surface, where the teeth ripped away the very top layer of the skin. i remember them now, leaning down over the arm, cutting. i remember feeling a little scared, but wanting them to do it. i remember the pain which wasn’t pain. the amazement and wonder, actually being fed from, being consumed, being consumed by the other, becoming part of them. it was like nothing i’ve ever known, and i still don’t have the right words to describe it. but i want to go back to that, experience it again.

the other is on the outside of my right shoulder. there’s two marks running diagonally down to the right, another to the left, all less than an inch long, which are quite red. and interleaved with those, a dozen or more very fine lines in both directions, about two inches long. i look at it, and i remember unwrapping the blade, handing it to the vampire, i remember the first tentative cut, testing the blade, then the rapid careful slicing, like a tiny little line of ice/fire being drawn over the skin. then the blood pearling out, red beads on my skin, joining up, flowing down my arm. the look on the vampires face, the concentration, the fierce intent in their eyes. licking up my blood, drinking it down, sucking at it, squeezing it to make it bleed more, licking that off.

i do not think i have ever shared as intimate a moment with anybody in my life.

and now i’ve got the scars. i cherish them, they carry precious memories. i am proud that i may carry them. but still, i (and you, if you become a sang donor) must carry them publicly. i actually have no problem at all with the one in the elbow; i have not once tried to hide or disguise it.

the other scar is more complicated. i mentioned the old scars earlier; my left arm is covered in scars, a few hundred of them. they are self-inflicted, from self-injury. and the scar on the shoulder looks quite similar. so when i’m around parents, i cover it. what answer could i give to their question? that it’s self-injury? it’d be a lie, and make them worry. that i let myself be fed on by a vampire? i am ashamed of myself that i do not have the courage to brave this, that i hide the scar so. because i love the scar, it is beautiful to me.

*i described that donation earlier.

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