Blood was running down his face

Let's talk about how Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes met.  The following comes from her journal... I don't know about you but I definitely do not write in my journal this eloquently. But then again, I don't think I've ever had to write down an experience quite like this.

"Then the worst thing happened, that big, dark, hunky boy, the only one there huge enough for me, who had been hunching around over women, and whose name I had asked the minute I had come into the room, but no one told me, came over and was looking hard in my eyes and it was Ted Hughes. . . . 

And then it came to the fact that I was all there, wasn't I, and I stamped and screamed yes. . . and I was stamping and he was stamping on the floor, and then he kissed me bang smash on the mouth and ripped my hair band off, my lovely red hairband scarf which had weathered the sun and much love, and whose like I shall never again find, and my favorite silver earrings: hah, I shall keep, he barked. 

And when he kissed my neck I bit him long and hard on the cheek, and when we came out of the room, blood was running down his face."

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