i couldn't let it go

last night between leaving work and meeting a lifelong friend for dinner, i stopped in at the library. i had 3 CDs that were overdue (arvo part, jean-yves thibaudet plays saint-saens, and mariah carey --- how's that for eclectic) and a book to finish, and with the hour i had to spare, i was in good shape.

i returned the CDs, picked up a new book to replace the one i was about to finish, and went to find a quiet chair by a window. finally i found a solitary pod of 4 chairs with no one in sight. falling into the place that afforded me a view out onto the evening street, i took off my coat, placed my purse on the chair next to me, and set my cell phone alarm (on vibrate --- i NEVER violate library rules) so i wouldn't lose track of time. [side note: last time i told myself i was "just going to run into TJ Maxx for 20 minutes," i was a full hour late meeting my boyfriend. from now on, i'm setting an alarm.]

i began to read. of course as soon as i'd settled in, people began milling around what had 7 minutes ago been a silent, human-free space, but none of them were offensively loud or persistent in my holy reading area, so i was able to ignore them.

as i neared the end of the book, i suddenly realized it was ending. this may seem like an odd statement, considering i was at the library (and not changing into more comfortable clothes at home) for the express purpose of finishing this book. but it hit me like a ton of bricks: the book was ending, and i didn't want it to. despite my already-nostalgic feelings toward the book, i read as fast as i could without losing any content. my hand remained poised at the upper right-hand corner, not wanting to lose any time or flow with page turns. finally i took the remaining pages between my thumb and the rest of my fingers so i could flip them like a flipbook --- i was reading that quickly. my heart was pounding. i could feel something starting on the bottoms of my feet, welling up through my calves, tickling the backs of my knees, and making its way like a rising flood through my torso. i was lost. i was found. i could be wrong, but i think i stopped breathing.

and then a mom and her 4 young children entered my holy sacred reading arena. with them they brought all the noises such a group will bring: rustling jackets falling off little shoulders, stage whispers that might as well be shouts, the muffled thud of running feet. they smelled like strawberry lollipops. and 2 of them FLOPPED themselves down in the chairs behind me, disturbing the radiant bubble of glowing space the end of my book had formed around me. i felt one of their restless little sneakers jamming rhythmically into the leg of the chair. it reverberated through the entire pod. MY pod. my holy bookish pod.

but even the Quintet of Distraction couldn't derail the Luxury Express Train to Post-Amazing-Book Euphoria i was on. i leaned forward to lessen the rhythmic jarrings of my fantastic-writing-induced haze. i uncrossed my legs and planted both feet on the ground. i brought the book closer to my face. i remembered to breathe.

and just before i finished, just before the final 2 pages, the jumping running rustling crowd departed. i was left to truly finish in peace, as God intended.

as i read the final words, the shimmering waters that had by now flooded my organs and cushioned my lungs reached the top of me and came spilling out of my eyes. i sat back with a sigh and let out all the sadness and triumph of the entire world (or so it felt). the reverie broken, i checked my phone: it was precisely the time i'd set it for.

i gathered my things and proceeded to the circulation desk. i felt like an old and new person. and even though i'd finished the book, and even if i went back and re-read the last 50 pages it wouldn't be the same, i couldn't slide it through the Books & Magazines return slot. i couldn't let it go.

so i kept it. i lugged it out to my car with the rest of my library spoils and put it on the backseat, separate from everything else. i've decided: there it will stay until its due date. there's still a lingering euphoria in my throat, my elbows, and my right tibia, and i'm going to ride it out as long as it lasts.