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.