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Reading Sylvia Plath’s journals and all the people she dated and possibly loved in her youth all sound so fantastical. My two favourite suitors were Myron and the Princetonian only because she expressed her feelings, yearnings and described their dates so beautifully.

And it’s crazy how even just a flutter can inspire people to create something beautiful even if it all ends up in shambles. It made me think about everyone I’ve ever had a crush on in my life, the ones that I wrote about… did I truly feel that way about them? Or did I just fall in love with the words I used to describe them? The adjectives I would attach to outings, all the nuances I would flesh out, all the embellishments…

Ah… I’ll never know.

Today's featured image is by Summer Pierre
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