Remember What Cutting Used To Be Like

Right now I'm just thinking about the time my scars were about a year old. They were so, so dark and very raised.  Most of the worst ones are about 5 years old at this point and they are still raised. I was a high school senior taking community college courses for high school and college credit. I was sitting in my Russian class, which was about half learners and half native speakers. I always partnered with the same woman who sat right behind me.  At this point I was still pretty depressed but I wasn't cutting.  I decided not to wear long sleeves all the time. I don't really remember ever trying to hide my scars at school. Mostly, people just ignored them. On this particular day in class my partner looked at my arm and asked me who did it to me.  I didn't know what to say so I just looked at her and said, I did that to myself." I did not explain any further and I think I remember her touching them.  I don't think she knew what to say either. That's the only time I've ever owned up to it like that.  It actually felt good to say that. I don't think anybody has asked me that since. I wonder what I would say now. I always, always wear long sleeves at work now. In the six months I've been at my current job I don't think I've ever shown my arms.  Occasionally I will pull my sleeves up just a little bit and expose four diagonal scars on my wrist. I don't know if anyone has ever seen them. I wonder if they talk about them when I'm not around.  There's a part of me that always wants to talk about them.  I was to show them and photograph them and touch them and talk about them.  I want to remember exactly what it was like to make each one of them.  I can remember stories about most of them: where I was, what I used, how it felt and how much it bled.  I will always remember which spots were my favorite to cut. I like to remember that because it's all I have left of it.