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I would love you so much...

“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.”
The Journals of Sylvia Plath

This blog is called 'A Head Full of Beauty' for a reason. When I started this blog I was already writing voraciously, spilling my emotions out in the strongest form of expression I had mastered. Literature and poetry had always been able to move me and help me feel the beauty in the world and in the human race. For me, beauty is not about aesthetics, it is not about what we see with our eyes but what we feel with our hearts. We feel beauty, it is an emotion, it is a movement in our soul, it is something transcendental. Beauty can be sad, it can be happy, it can be tortured, it can be innocent, it can be fresh, it can be ancient...

While I hated everything about my physical self, I thanked God everyday for the beauty he put in my head, and for the words and art and nature that I found around me to fill the space in my heart and mind.

It's hard to explain, but Sylvia's words rang so true for me here. Yes, I am inherently unhappy, but I still love life. I still thank God for the beauty. So much so that I wish that I could give something back to it, contribute my own little ray of beauty into someone elses life.

I would give anything to make Theo happy. Any other girl would have walked away months ago, we both know that. But there's a reason why I haven't given up on him. It's not only because he looks at me and sees who I really am and sees the beauty beneath my skin, but because I see him. Even though he will never let me in, I can see it. He's not like other guys I've met. There's something very tortured about Theo, something very unhappy, deep down. I've seen shadows of it lurking in the things he says and the way he behaves, but I'll never forget the words a few months ago:
"I'm empty, I feel nothing."

I rang him on Thursday evening and immediately regretted it. We had nothing to say and it was strained. I tried to be cheerful and bubbly but it wasn't working.
"I want to get out of London, I'm so bored of it, I hate it." he said.

My heart went cold, not because I was worried about him leaving but because his words reaffirmed something I had suspected for a while - I think he is a depressive, or has some sort of very repressed depression perhaps. I also think he takes copious amounts of coke with his friends at the weekend. I already know he has a drink problem. I think he's very unhappy deep down, but it's hard to pin point because he is so terribly repressed and silent.
I worry about Theo because I feel his similarities to me. I see his inability to love the world like he wishes he could, his need to run away to a new place, a fresh start, his deep seated insecurity about not being good enough - for me.

As he said these words about wanting to leave London I immediately thought of this post I had written two years ago:
It is impossible...
in which I wrote about the constant need I have had throughout much of my life to move on to somewhere new, to cut my ties, to start afresh. I make friends only to cut them out again soon after. For the last few years, all my friendships have had a lifespan of a year or less. I can't bear people getting attached, knowing too much about me, I can't bear feeling that I owe them something, that they have control over me, that I have to give up time to see them. Perhaps that's how Theo feels about me.
I have always been chased by a constant need to run away and burn bridges, always believing that the next place, the next time, I'll get it right, I'll start over and be happy.
The simple pleasures of life are not enough for me, and I know they're not enough for Theo, that's why I found him special. He was the first person I'd ever met who understood my need to push myself to be the best version of myself that I could be.

Mediocre in between. I still use that phrase all the time. It is the phrase that sums up everything I don't want my life to be.

I have grown up a lot since I wrote that last post two years ago. I am not so extreme.

I worry about Theo because I worry about where he will be in a few years. I know depression and alcohol can kill a man, and I know it's capable of killing him. I know he'll never have a happy relationship, I know he'll never have a happy life, he'll always be wanting, he'll always be unhappy. It's a fucking curse.
But I want him to know that I know, and I want him to know that I love him and want to help him.
Theo and I will never be in a relationship - if we were it would be completely destructive. We are destructive people, we are wired to hurt ourselves and hurt other people. But that doesn't change the fact that I love him, and would do anything to help him understand and make him happy. Anything. But I know I am not enough and never will be. But that's because of his problems, not mine.

"I would love you so much if you'd let me."


  1. If only we could meet that one person who would love us and go to such lengths to make us happy, as you would for Theo. You can offer another person so much and deserve the same in return.

    I realized how idealistic I am in wanting to find another person to share every aspect of myself and himself with, to strive to inspire each other to want to be better. I suppose most people don't wish for the same intensity or intimacy in a relationship, but that's one thing that I would value the most if I ever come across it.

  2. God your first few paragraphs run deep for me. I know exactly what you mean about beauty being a feeling; you can have a second of beauty, you can recognize it, you can see it where it might be overlooked. I've just never heard anyone put it into words before.

    Sorry about the whole Theo thing. When you first started writing about him he seemed like such a good idea, sort of a safe bet. Who knew he was so tortured? I wish you the best<3

  3. Wow, I really love your writing. Take care.

    /S / http://

  4. I think you've come to a similar realization the I have in the past few months - that you can't make someone love you or make them let you love them. I love Juan is every teensy fiber of my being, but he just doesn't want it. I don't know why, since he professed to love me just as equally for a long time. But now, there is absolutely nothing I can do. Some people find that freeing, but I find it torturous, since I like to be in control of my life.

    I just wish there was some way that these men would realize that being with someone who puts his needs before her own is a good person so be with, and that being in a relationship like that fosters reciprocal feelings and actions - selfless love is true love. But, they just don't seem to get it, and throw it away for what???

    Sorry, I'm rambling. I hope you're doing alright. Chin up.

  5. He needs to realize how valuble you are.
    Men are so dumb sometimes.

  6. You sound a bit like Tom and I. Him spending a lifetime running into booze and drugs to escape his head, me just plain running. Mix us together and all you get is something resembling a Motley Crue video. It's fun, it's wild and it feels so magnetic-electric being together. But isn't it ironic that the only person who makes you feel alive is capable of killing you both?


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