London

62 - "Third time's a charm, right?

Summer 2020 - Alex

Harry's waiting for me outside, probably already irritated with the fact that I'm late. It's just that after an emotional session with Doctor Collins I needed a moment to refresh back at home. The mascara that I was wearing ended up on my cheeks instead of my eyelashes and I look like I'm sick without it. I didn't even tell Harry that I had to meet him again since he's already so stressed about his new tattoo shop. The opening has been postponed two times, but now halfway through September it seems like it is finally ready. I didn't want to add to his stress when there's no need. 

Doctor Collins and I discussed how the last few months have been, and to my surprise a lot has changed. So much so that we both agree to take away the anti-depression medication and see how I react to the world without it. The thought of no medication, and the realization of how bad things were with Harry and how good they are now made me cry. Happy-tears, but it didn't matter for my make-up.

I look okay again now, but I lost precious time and by the look on Harry's face he's not happy with it. I promised to help with the last bit of paintings that he needs to hang up, and organize all that needs to happen tomorrow for the big opening. I don't get why he wants to go back to the shop anyway since it felt finished after we closed up yesterday, and we don't really have much to do there besides decorate which can wait until tomorrow when it actually is the opening. But he insisted, and I don't want to argue.

"Sorry, sorry," I speak, rushing towards him. "I just came from therapy and lost track of time."

"Therapy?" He repeats with a frown. The word enough to not make him yell at me directly.

"Yes, every few months I still need to go. We now have a new appointment for November. That might be the last time if I do well without medication."

"You're off it now then?"

"Yes, not immediately. Takes a few weeks to lower the doses etcetera."

"That's good news," he says, and I smile to him. "We should celebrate."

"We can, but you want to go back to Stories."

He nods, walking towards the van that he rented this week. We moved a lot of furniture over and it came in handy to have it. It will be sad to say goodbye to it after this week. 

"Do you really think we can open tomorrow?" Harry wonders, unsure as he starts the van. 

"Of course. You have appointments for a month already. I'm pretty sure they don't care if the paintings aren't completely organized."

"Yeah, you're right," he mumbles as he drives off. 

Harry is usually quit sure of himself so I always find it humbling to see him insecure and afraid. Opening a tattoo shop of his own is something out of his comfort zone, and everyday has been a challenge for him. To stay nice and polite, to keep his temper, to believe in himself. It will be good for it to finally open so that he can return to his usual self and I can stop walking on egg-shells. 

The shop has changed a lot since the first time I saw it. Instead of white walls and floors, we worked hard to bring some colour in it. The floor got a new paint job in its original colour, and some of the walls are painted in a greyish green. Instead of it being one large room, it is divided in three parts. The entrance is where he has his desk and can sketch. Behind it are some of his art that beautifully contrasts with the green on the walls. Opposite of his desk there is a seating area with some furniture that he bought at vintage stores and of course good-old Ikea. It's a nice nook for guests to sit and chill.

The back of the shop is divided in two parts. Both ends of the room are arranged for Harry to tattoo. For now he's running the shop alone, but maybe in the future he will train someone, or hire a temporary guest artist that can use the other booth. It looks really cool. There are two tattoo benches, new models that literally fold into every seating arrangement. Much to our pleasure.