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reading slyvia plath makes me feel things physically. im not sad nor feel understood there is a terrible ache in my liver and i feel nauseous
let me bed rot in peace!! ;c
I wish I was better at letting go of things, people, memories. I want to learn how. I keep hurting myself by falling in love with the idea of people and not their true character. I’m tired of being a stupid naive girl. I just have so much empathy for everyone and everybody deserves a fresh start, trust and a chance. Ugh. I’m too sweet and gentle for this place we call Earth or at least the Earth I have experienced.
I feel everything so incredibly intensely. Like a gift I haven’t learned how to use yet. I know my emotions are a blessing, I know, but why doesn’t it feel that way? Have I not met the right people? Am I not healed enough to maintain relationships with others? I wish I just knew all the answers. I guess I don’t have to have everything figured out right now. All I know is I don’t need to be cured or fixed or saved, just loved. If for once in my life I could just have that genuine love and patience - I know it would help me. I know it would heal the broken pieces of me that I cannot heal alone. I’m not giving up hope yet, I won’t. Love is out there waiting for me and I’m getting ready. I am ready. But until I find it I’ll give myself all that love I desire until I’ve loved me enough to feel safe enough to allow someone else to love me as well.
Sylvia Plath, Letters Home, 1975