It's not like it doesn't hurt. 

It's not like I don't feel sad looking at that hole staring back at me, imagining what an ugly scar it'll leave.

It hurts, at times, suddenly, without a warning. 

It really sucks, sometimes, when I look at it and think about how even though I've never been particularly good-looking, smart, or even kind, I could always count on myself being healthy. I didn't get sick that often, didn't have much scars. But now that's not true, either.

But it's not like I can say anything about it.

So yes, it doesn't hurt, and I really don't care much about the scars.

I'll forget about this in a few years anyway.