I wish there was someone to kiss my bruises.  They could start at the one on the arch of my foot.  Then the one behind my knee (faded, from Wednesday).  And then follow the dappled trail of purple and green that colours my inner thigh.  They could kiss the one on my hip (I bumped the table). And then find the small one just where my wrist bends towards itself.  A soft kiss for each one.

I wish there was someone who’d count them.  Who’d touch them and smooth them.  Who’d croon lullabies to soothe them.  But there’s not.  So instead I’ll string lines in the ether.  And sing songs of relief to myself. And watch the moon turn the night to water.  While nightjars fight in the dark.


*On the 7th of January, I put my house on the market.

On the 18th I was offered full asking price, on condition I’m out by next weekend.  (Which, make no mistake, is awesome news.)

In the past few days, I’ve packed and moved over 30 boxes. Boxes mostly filled with books.  Which means heavy boxes.  And bruises.

Last night, after moving the first 19, in a series of trips, to their new storage unit, I lay in the bath.  And traced the pattern of them.  Literally dozens.  I couldn’t help wondering if this is how it’ll be.  Me, capable, alone.  Covered in bruises no one will really see.

On the upside.  House hunting.

And in the interests of sanity, I’m going to try mostly faking enthusiasm for the next couple of weeks.  Perhaps life will imitate art.  And I can stop boring the pants off everyone with my finest emo impersonations.


20 thoughts on “Bruises*

  1. daisyfae says:

    i’m quite adept at tending my own bruises, singing my own lullabies, and rocking myself to sleep. i don’t think about it much, until i am reminded that this is not a state most people aspire to… i generally feel pretty complete, and am quite welcoming to companionship that arises along any portion of the journey.

    honestly can’t tell you how i got here. i only know that i’d rather be here than trapped in a place i don’t wish to stay. your journey is different, no doubt. and your bruises are fresh. but they’ll fade, and you’ll soon have a new home, and many, many things to look forward to… hate to see you hurting so much. wish i could help. let’s go to Italy…

    • Dolce says:

      Awww, Dais. I feel so fucking inadequate for being such a mess. Which is stooopid, I know. The loneliness is killer. And not the kind that can be cured by girlfriends and bon homie. The kind that longs to be held in the night.

      But the irony is that I’m not afraid of it. I doubt I’ll fall for the trap of security. I just wish this bit of the journey would speed up a bit, so that I can get on with enjoying the ride.

  2. twin says:

    that pic captures your post beautifully. (& I have to admit….your description of bruised bits & their pattern….has me wanting to kiss them for you.) d’oh!

  3. nursemyra says:

    Capable and alone. you, me and daisyfae……

  4. I would ….. of course …… but I might be in trouble …..

  5. I wouldn’t recommend finding sanity. The insanity part gives it all so much more sense.
    I love bruises; they remind me I am still my inner kid.
    All the best with yours, and be good to you.

    • Dolce says:

      Champers! And yeah, there is something about bruises being very visceral evidence of doing something unsafe, something that requires learning and a bit of pain. Stuff we tend to avoid as grown ups. I like that thought. Thank you.

  6. Pete says:

    Congrats on selling the house but I’m sorry about the bruises. Don’t you find it’s such an emotional upheaval moving house? All that physical (and emotional) baggage that accumulates over the years. I’m still recovering from the last move (and of course this is the year of more upheavals). But glad to hear you’re self-soothing. And where is that Prince Charming when you need him? In Italy maybe? 🙂

    • Dolce says:

      I’m not sure I want Prince Charming, Pete (all that boot polishing). But I’d settle for a little chianti in the hills of Tuscana.

      Good luck with the arrival of the turtle. Upheaval indeed. The end of life as you know it! But in a good way 🙂

  7. I’m with C Heathen – it the insanity which makes life worthwhile. And bruises heal.

    In other news, I found an emo bird!

  8. Wow. That has to be some kind of a record on your house sale. Hope you find a wonderful place to move all your stuff out of storage into.

    Physical bruises heal faster than emotional ones.

    • Dolce says:

      I think so! And now I’ve bought a new one. The crazy thing is, in four weeks, I would have bought sold and moved. Madness.

      Of course, I can only take occupation in April, so will be in temporary digs until then. Could be exciting.

  9. I guess that’s why they call it the bruise …

  10. Rob says:

    Wow. Market to sale in 11 days?!? Good news, but it seems to have put you under a bit of pressure and added stress, eh? Here’s wishing you better and brighter days, complete with healing. Don’t forget to take care of you.

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