I'm always finding myself in bookstores on weekends. I can't stop buying at least one book. I'm reading at least four books at the moment. I wish I could read out loud to you, and tell you my favorite quotes and how they made me feel. I can't do that now, though. And even if I already bought new books, there are old ones that I go back to. This is one of those books.
It was through this book that four years ago, we finally got together. It is difficult to forget that moment. I gained a constant (who wasn't much of a constant after all), a favorite spot of grass, found one of my forever books. Each dictionary entry, each anecdote, is somehow tied to a memory of you. It doesn't help that we marked words for each other. At that time, when it felt like we could stretch forever, it seemed like a good idea. But now that we're farther apart than ever, each word carries more weight. The heaviness is in the remembering of the parallels and how we could have defined the words better than the book ever did. We can't do that now.
This book will always be marked by you. Your smell, your eyes and its twinkle, the inflections of your voice. I'm rereading the book so I can remember and then maybe forget how good it felt to be yours. Maybe someday it could mean a different thing with someone else. This will always be one of my favorite books.
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