I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body
I knew I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her. Believe me, I spent countless nights awake in bed unable to sleep, listing the reasons why it would never work out. But all these thoughts of her spread like a wildfire, like a virus in my head. All the things that were working against me didn’t seem to matter so much. Yes, it was completely illogical. Though not impossible, certainly implausible. And still she was my wish for every blown out birthday candle, every penny now resting at the bottom of numerous wishing wells, every star that ever shot across the night sky. They were probably wasted wishes because I knew they would never come true. Yet somehow, they didn’t feel wasted to me. I just couldn’t help myself. I honestly couldn’t fathom how anyone could not fall in love with her. She had everything. She was everything. I had held the firm belief all my life that people like her didn’t exist; and maybe they don’t. It would make sense, because I’m not sure there could be anyone quite like her. It was just so easy for me. Falling for her almost came naturally, like gravity. I fell so deeply in love with her mind, her kindness, her creativity. The way her eyes saw things no one else could see. She was the absolute epitome of beauty. And I will never forget her. No matter where I go or what I do or who I meet, I will never, ever forget her.
I see everyone and no one in myself.
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. (via alma-invicta)