Sylvia also laments feeling like a piece of meat with men. Is it impossible to have the star-crossed connection when someone loves your thoughts, feelings, soul, and then by proxy loves your body? No, not impossible, but I get the discouragement and disillusionment that comes with efforts thwarted and then settling for love with the latter when the former feels unlikely. Relationships seem to be one of the main points of human life.
Along with Sylvia, I also “justify my life” by writing, or I think that writing will be the one piece of myself, however obscure, that might live on.
Everyone wants to feel desirable, but Sylvia really seems to base her self worth on external things. I also feel like I’ve lived in a fantasy world during my childhood, maybe for survival, but when you’re forced out when you go to university, it becomes quite intrusive to be catapulted out of your bubble.
I feel comfortable and at peace with myself. If tension should arise today, it won’t be from my doing. I won’t fight back if arrows fly my way, but stand calm and face them to find they are blunted and laced with saline.