And I have never liked books or libraries.
Reading books was like trying to understand a new language.
And the silence of the libraries was deafening.
But there was this girl.
Who went to the library every day.
And rumors would say that she read a new set of books each visit.
A new set.
I thought; no normal person could sit, hours on end, reading stacks of paper for entertainment.
I was right.
For she was no ordinary soul.
If the word ‘enchanting’ could take a human form, it would be her.
And I wanted her.
I wanted her to want me.
So I went to the library once a week to see if she would notice me.
To see if she noticed me the way I noticed her.
When she didn’t, I started going twice a week.
Nothing.
Before I knew it, I was going to that library
Every. Single. Day.
Not once did she sit with me,
or talk to me,
or even glance at me.
Her eyes were stuck to those pages like color on a rainbow.
And I was jealous.
Because her eyes were calm seas.
But those books, those words,
they would change those calm seas to crashing waves.
And I was so jealous.
I wanted to go up to her,
and ask why she was always reading.
Ask, why do you always want to escape the world?
What are you escaping from?
I had so many questions for her.
But who was I to go to her?
Or in other words,
how does a peasant approach a queen?
Waiting caused frustration,
but rejection would cause devastation.
So instead, I waited.
I waited for her to look up from the pages,
to look at me,
to approach me,
to get lost in my eyes the way she got lost in books.
I waited for that day to come.
But a different day came.
A day came when she didn’t come to the library.
And I waited,
all day.
But she never came.
I waited for her and her ocean eyes.
Then three years pasted, and I stopped waiting.
No more libraries,
no more books,
no more her.
And I still have never liked books or libraries.