Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.
— Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath
spent most of my afternoon finishing the book thief, and trying to be discreet while ugly crying in the window at starbucks.