For those who read.
I have this fear that I’m doomed to marry a book someday (yes you read that right, book not bookworm). The symptoms are obvious:
1.) A book and I are never awkward around each other.
2.a.) We can be together in all places (from under a tree to the toilet to inside a train to places we’ve never been physically present in.)
2.b.)We can be together in thought.
3.) A book witnesses my most unflattering moments alone and among a group of friends and never really minds the dancing or the singing or the crying on the pillow because of nothing at all. It doesn’t leave when it sees the worst of me. It stays on the shelf, gathers mold and dust and waits.
4.) I grew up in a house with seven bookshelves of varying sizes, sixteen large boxes of books all under different beds and a really ugly white book chest under our television set. In other words, I live in a world where there are more books than humans (duh.)
5.) The only club I joined in grade school was the Junior Librarians’ Club which hosted a Beauty and the Beast play every single year and ate palabok every single time we had a party. We had trips to practically the quietest libraries in my hometown.
6.) I could go a whole day not talking to anyone because I need to talk to myself about a book. I read about 190++ books in grade school (thanks to my borrower’s card records) and all of these were mostly done in a corner where I laughed and cried and screamed sometimes. No one was there to see me except a whole shelf of paperbacks by R.L. Stine and a rack of those yellow Enid Blyton books.
7.) I’m currently a student assistant at my university’s College of Arts and Letters Library, a decision I made just so I could get to know more authors and read them when the head librarian’s not looking (or even if she is looking). It’s sad though because the longer I stay there, the less time I have to read an actual material.
8.) Etc. I am deeply indebted to the person who invented ‘etc’.
My relationship with books wasn’t always as pretty as the above points painted it to be. Books and I have gone through a lot of dips together and I didn’t read a single good book for about three straight years in high school.
Me: I don’t feel like reading you.
B: I‘m intentionally not making myself make sense so just stop trying to understand me.
Me: You’re such a boring book. Say thanks I didn’t put you down until page 3.
B: What’s wrong with you? Why are you sleeping on me?
But just like lovers, we always find a way back to each other.
Me: Aww, that’s a really beautiful ending. Good night.
B: Yeah, good night. See you tomorrow.
I hope I marry a book that doesn’t end so I can have my forever. We’re gonna have the most interesting children, I think.