I was standing at the counter, holding a copy of If On A Winter’s Night A Traveler and Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan. I had told myself those were the only two ones I needed at the moment. But you – your doleful eyes, your voiceless calling out to me – kept me glancing back at you.
Then look away.
And look away.
Shaking your pretty face from my eyes, I nodded with a faint smile when the cashier asked “would that be all, ma’am?”
How to answer it, huh? With you staring daggers right into my weak fangirl soul! OF COURSE THAT WOULDNT BE ALL!! But what do I do? Do I go back and grab you by the hand, take you home with me, and cherish you for years to come?
“No. No, Rain. You cannot do that. You have us to think of as well. You cannot be so selfish.” came a voice from deep inside my mind, from a corner I had chosen to forget my room even had. That dusty corner. And in that dusty corner was a stack of voices unheard. Roads untraveled. People unmet. And I have a responsibility towards them, after all. I cannot be so careless unfortu-fucking-nately!!!
But my eyes betray me.
They still end up reaching out to you.
And I see you reaching out to me.
You want me to be the one who holds you, get lost in the world contained in you. But as I think it through just once more, I realize it’s time. The cashier hands me the packet and the change. I clench my jaw as I will my eyes to not look back. The threshold arrives. And I cross it. I am on the other side now, the door closing behind me.
But I am greedy. Greedy for one more glance at you. Just one more. It won’t be enough but at least it’ll be something.
So I do. I look back. One last time. To pierce through your cover and catch a glimpse of the world you contain, the world I probably won’t be able to become a part of.
And I see you there. Still calling out to me, hidden in between a stack of other paperbacks a beautiful lovely pink cover with your name written over it, enticing me with its beauty. It was love at first sight after all for I knew and I believed in the story your pages contained.
But alas, your fate. Or rather mine. Or maybe it’s just the lack of enough time but you’ll be forever listed under “All The Books I’ll Never Have the Pleasure of Reading.” 😦