I don’t know you very well, but I know of you. When I look at your photos I see such a beautiful woman, who would fit perfectly within the American Dream, yet inside of you there seemed to be another world, possibly a nightmare, a conflict between being human and being what you were expected to me. This I can only assume
When I think of you, I can’t stop crying. Not because of your sudden departure from this life, which is easily understandable, but because somewhere inside of me I am you and you are me. You inspire me Sylvia, to stand strong and not to have my voice silenced. To shout at the top of my lungs of the person I am rather than the person I have been expected to be.
I understand your need to be alone in this world of chaos. Yet, inside of me, I wish I could have given you just a moment of relief, of comfort, of love. None of these things ever last, but if for just one moment I could have given you any of these things, in exchange you would be giving me what I so need, to love, to comfort, and to feel relief by giving relief.
You may have rejected my offer due to distrust and the lack of belief that these things actually exist. This I can understand also. Now that you have departed this life, and maybe see things a little more clearly, I hope that you understand what it is that I am offering from the sincerity of my heart.
I truly want to know you Sylvia, but all I have is books and stories to give me a mere impression of who you were. Not enough to allow me to truly know you. Even though I don’t know you, I feel you. And, through this feeling I love you.
I won’t let you down dear Sylvia. I will express my quiet, peaceful heart with a loud roar that will fill the entire face of the Earth, even echoing throughout the universe. You did not die in vain. You gave us who love you a greater reason and meaning for living. You inspire us to be ourselves and to not allow the society and it’s insane expectations to tell us otherwise.
Dear Sylvia, this letter may be short for such a long winded writer such as I. It is because I am overwhelmed with emotion brought about by my thoughts of you. Surely I will write to you again, once I have composed myself enough to express, more thoroughly, my true feelings for you. As for now, please know that I love you, and through this love, I will always strive to be true to myself and to no one else. If this means that the little minds of the world will hate me, then I accept this as a compliment. If it means that I will have to live the rest of this short and empty life alone, I welcome it. For I know that you don’t hate me and I also know that, within me, I am never alone.
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(featured image drawn by Sylvia Plath herself)