No Longer Lonely good or bad?

!(tw: s.h)!

I broke last night.

I broke because I looked at my leg;

Noticed that my scar,

The one I was repeatedly told I would hate,

The one I kept loving,

Is fading.

Fading into the background of my skin.

Now that my skin is peppered by hundreds of other scars it seems to sink.

The part of my history that I remember.

The funny story that accompanied it.

The people attached to it's memory.

They seem to sink.

The jarring sight it used to create seems muted now.

Because of the multiple times I broke.

When I broke and so I broke my skin.

Over, and over again.

Should I hate it now that it seems so much less?

Should I have framed it?

Drawn a box around it to ensure nothing could reach it's colour?

It's still there;

Still a large reminder of a mistake.

But I miss the people from the mistake.

And the scars around it are no mistake.

At first glance it reminds me of camouflage.

At second glace it seems otherworldly.

At third glance I no longer search for it.

I still yearn for it but I know it is no longer lonely;

It is alone in itself,

But no longer lonely.

Should I be happy?

I was told I should hate it.

Now you no longer "see" it,

You see the thin red lines around it.

All of those horizontal,

This one vertical.

Should I hate it more now?

Or is this more reason to adore it?

I cant't decide and so I colour outside of the box once more.