Bruises

I'm often covered in bruises. Running cross-country when you fall a lot can create a devilish amount of scratches and blue blotches. Currently I am sporting attractive yellowing marks all over my legs and even my shoulders (damn tree branches).

I still wear skirts. I don't care that people can see my training injuries.

But I feel shy about those other bruises.

It's almost been a year since I started writing here. It's almost been a year since X broke up with me. The bruises are fading, but they are still visible.

The fear that no one will ever love me for who I really am.
The feeling that I'll never be enough.

Recently I was on Facebook and I saw a notification that one of X's closest pals had become FB friends with the Rebound Fuck. My heart stopped. It all came back.

What would help me get over this last hurdle? I wish X would tell me he felt sorry for the way we broke up. I wish he could call me and tell me that part of the end of our relationship was that HE has issues, problems and the like.

I wish he could give me closure.

And he won't.

I've been trying to cover up the bruises. But when it all comes back, with the smell of spring, my face pinker because of the sun, the taste of strawberries, it still hurts.

You can stop loving someone and they still have the power to hurt you.

I am happy. I'm in another relationship. Things are going well for me.

And yet, some of my worst fears have his fingerprints on them.

Disguises

I'm wearing my grown-up dress. It's got a big skirt and a slim top, and I pair it with a blazer and some heels. I'm wearing this dress because I spent all day whoring myself out at the Sciences Po Business convention, giving my CVs and asking for money.Ironically, this took place in the Paris House of Chemistry. It feels quite strange, that this is a thing people do every day, when they ask for grants, for scholarships, and yet I find it so difficult. Give me!Money! On my shoulder you can see my big bruise-scratch that I got from tripping over a branch while running with the track team. Stupid. I also have a couple of beauties on each of my knees. I'm clumsy. Here's the thing: I've been covering up a lot of my bruises and of my hurts recently. On the one hand I deal with them better if I pretend they're simply not there. On the other, I know that they will hurt even more when I attend to them. Scary prospect. All these thoughts collided when I had lunch with my friend L from Lyon today. I felt a rush of nostalgia for all the good times we had together and I loved hearing about all the things she is doing. She admired my outfit and told me how old-ladyish I looked. I took off my top and showed her some of my AMAZING SPORT injuries. She giggled. "I guess some things don't change." I'm so used to people asking me to change, to always improve, that I found something wonderful in that shedding of my disguise.