I looked down at my psychology textbook, the colours of my frantic highlighting blurring together. I felt a tear slowly glide down my cheek, and land onto the open page. My ability to grasp onto a clear thought seemed to have left me, and all that was left was a heavy pounding in my head.
I think in the back of my mind I relished the feeling of being complete and utterly alone--the librarian not knowing I was here, the guy studying a row away not realizing I was tearing apart. Or maybe they did know, and they just didn't want to say anything.
Maybe the librarian had seen one too many teary-eyed students come in here, weighted down by the stress of university. Maybe she decided that I was a lost cause (not that she'd be the only one), and was content with sitting behind her desk and doing crosswords. Maybe the guy a row away had caught a glimpse of me through the tattered books, but not asked if I was okay because he was so focused on his own studying. Maybe he himself was on the verge of breaking, and the thought of talking to me seemed like the push over the edge. I'm not quite sure how long I sat there; hunched over my dog-eared textbook, trying to cling onto a solid thought.
It was maybe an hour later, or a minute--or even three hours when I finally mustered enough courage to get up and leave the library. I noiselessly closed my textbook, making sure to grab the various pencils and markers that were littered around me.
Getting up proved to be the most difficult task, as my muscles were slightly stiff. I bend down to grab an eraser that had fallen, when my arm knocked down a book. I cursed under my breath. Putting my runaway eraser in my pencil case, I gingerly picked up the book.
It was a thick, sturdy, hardcover, with the words "The Best of Benjamin Franklin". I shoved it back in the shelf, when a book caught my eye. "Wise Words According to Ben Franklin" I pulled it down. It was a thin hardcover, with the title in calligraphy-like font. I quickly flipped it over, and scanned the back. The book was mostly a compilation of his works, with a few odd quotes here and there. I decided to check it out, seeing as I was falling slightly behind in physics. I walked over to the mahogany desk, and the librarian looked up from where she was sitting. She offered me a smile, which I somewhat returned. I handed her the book, and she beeped it through the machine. She stuffed in a bookmark, and a little paper of when it was due back. I nodded, and quickly made my departure.
My scuffed up Keds hit the stone steps outside, and the sun beat down on me. I looked around, not quite sure of where to go. I think my mind just sort of geared down into slow motion as I took everything in. It was a beautiful campus--there was no doubt about that.
The aroma of the freshly mowed grass mixed in with the waft of roasted coffee beans coming from a nearby bistro was purely beautiful. The gurgling fountain (occasionally spraying a light mist of water onto the paved walkway), the ancient stone buildings and the students themselves all contributed to making this scene slightly heavenly.I took particular note in the people that milled about, walking and chatting. Occasionally they would throw back their head to let out a laugh, and then give a giddy grin.
Call me crazy (again, you wouldn't be the only one), but this was truly mesmerizing. The sheer and sudden realization of the fact that every face had a story--everyone had a different history that got them to where they were today. And the scary part was that only they knew the full story. No body else knew every crack, every nook of secrets in their life. And I guess that was what made it so special.
Seeing as I didn't want to look completely like I had lost my mind (which was debatable, i suppose), I took a sharp turn to my right, clutching onto my books with my left hand. I absentmindedly looked down at my hand, and a sharp tug of pain interrupted whatever train of thought was in my head.
Three small, almost invisible tattoos where there, right on the outside of my wrist. It was three tiny birds, each in a different stage of flying. Most people just thought it was an attempt to follow the 'hip trend'. It couldn't of been a further cry from the real reason. Each bird represented a time that somebody I loved had left me. Three birds for three people. I smiled sadly, trying to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill.
"It's alright princess, it's just a slight pinch. I'll be right here."
I considered his soft blue eyes, full of love and adoration for me. His mouth was curved up into an honest smile, barely showing his perfect teeth. I took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. I gazed back into his eyes, and I knew in that moment, that he was telling the complete and utter truth. I knew I was save with him. I clenched by teeth, and looked over at the burly man.
"Okay. I'm ready."
The man grinned, and picked up his machine. I winced slightly at the whirring noise but was quickly calmed by--
I pressed my nails into a cover of a book, trying to refrain from repeating his name. It was too soon. The sharp tug of pain had subsided, leaving only a dull ache. I sighed, and pressed forward.
I was sitting outside on a little patio, staring intently at the book. My low-fat-extra-whip-with-a-pump-of-chocolate strawberry and creme frappuccino was resting on my knee. The condensation had run down the sides, creating a small pool of wetness on my leg.
The sun was beating down on me, and it caused my whipped cream to melt, deflating a bit. I was at my favourite café--this was where our first official date was. I clenched the book tighter in my hands. A wave of memories rushed through me, making me shiver. I closed my eyes, focusing on the cold water that was quickly assembling on my leg. No matter how hard I had tried to shut.... that pat of my brain off, I just couldn't. It was like something had me bound. Something had me trapped with one foot in both worlds.
My eyes flew open in an attempt to calm myself. I looked around to see if anybody had noticed my little episode. I relaxed when I realized that everything seemed to be as it should be. But.... That's the thing about people, am I right?
We don't notice anything.
We have all this technology and cameras and spies but we don't notice things right before our eyes. We don't notice anything until it's too late. And by then, it usually is. We don't notice that the people around us are slowly crumbling, and we don't notice that we are crumbling with them. I take a deep breath in, trying not to relapse again. I loosened my grip on the book, and forced myself to focus back on it.
Probably the most famous quote about passion from Mr. Franklin is the shortest of them all. "If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins."
I stopped reading. My eyes darted up to the phrase again. If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins. I seemed to, again, loose the ability to grasp onto a clear thought. My mind was blurred, just like the colours in my textbook that suddenly seemed so long ago. My fingers dropped the book onto the metal table, landing with a slight thump. I looked down at my drink, the whipped cream now completely melted.
I guess I had let go of the reins.
Hello! Sorry it was a little short, but I wanted to see if people liked it. Comment if you'd like me to continue, please :) Her tattoo is to the side, but just imagine it a lot smaller. Thanks for reading!
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Passion is that which happens when your mind shuts off for even a second.
Beauty is that which happens when you look around.
