If someone is kind, they’ll say, “Oh, that’s pretty, is it real?” If he or she isn’t kind, they’ll probably just raise their eyebrows. Whatever the case, the person will always utter that breathy “Oh,” which softly begs a deep and resounding “Why?”

A few months after our wedding, despite potential shame and embarrassment, my wife and I decided to get love tattoos to celebrate making it through the marriage experience. Like most people, we had survived in-laws, last-minute problems with the wedding party, and our own apprehensions just to say our “I dos.”

On a crisp night in September, we went under the gun at Tom’s Terrific Tattoos in Ellsworth, a homey place run by Tom and Cheryl Murphy. The two have been married for 25 years and share a love of the art form, evidenced by the patchwork of colors and characters creeping up their arms and out of their sleeves.

Like most young lovers, our first thought was to get each other’s name proudly scrawled on our arms. A romantic notion, but we caved to caution. Instead, we chose to use a slightly modified line from Tom Waits’ “Johnsburg, Illinois,” a dizzy little ditty from his album “Swordfishtrombones.” The song had been our wedding march.

Five hours, two cups of coffee, two hamburgers, three sticks of gum, and a bag of licorice later, we had our tattoos.

Since that autumn evening, we have endured our share of stares, lifted eyebrows and “ohs.” My mother bluntly reminded me that she spent nine months going without alcohol, nicotine, or caffeine to ensure I came out perfectly and then pleaded, “Why?” In the case of my mother in-law, she just covered her eyes.

In an age where love and relationships can be like fast-food meals, especially for the twentysomething set, the idea of showing your love in an inky, indelible display may seem stupid and reckless.

Beneath those “ohs” and “whys” lurks a deeper, darker question: “What happens if it doesn’t last?” What will become of the rose and banner proclaiming “Brenda 4 Ever?” or what of those matching Grateful Dead dancing bears when your summer of love is over?

It’s been well over a year since Tom and Cheryl sent us home that night with tender, achy arms covered in gauze. The tattoos have healed but the surreal feeling of living forever with not just a tattoo, but one that has real meaning, has never gone. I don’t know if it will.

For anyone else thinking about getting a “love tattoo,” Tom had one piece of advice: “Be sure of what you’re doing.” Of course, that bit of wisdom could be applied to lots of things.

Still, the question remains, “Why do it at all?” For us, the answer is the same as the questions of “Why fall in love?” and “Why get married?” Because it is a risk, and the outcomes are permanent and not easily reversed or covered up. And, after making it to and from the altar with the one you love, suffering the joybuzzes of a tattooist’s gun is a breeze.