How am I meant to bear missing someone I will
never speak to again? Is this one of life’s questions
that only the one asking can answer? Like what is
my purpose or where do I belong? I understand
what Sylvia Plath meant when she wrote, I must
get back my soul from you; I am killing my flesh
without it. I think I ate my heart after I left you.
I have struggled to regurgitate it, ready to try again,
but who would want to take it from me now?
I worry this love inside of me will sour like
stagnant water. I feel so childish, crying out for
something good to happen, for a love like a
warm blanket. There is a young girl inside of me
wanting to be coddled and a woman yearning
to be handled. Your smile, your laugh, your
hands, your lips soothed me… so long ago.
I have tried to find it in another. I have tried
to manage with only my memories. But I am
worried nothing else will ever be enough.
– journal entry from just another passionate, fragmentary girl
For All Story Lovers! 