At the beginning of this year, I decided to move from New York to Alabama for job-related reasons. While the reason for my transfer is because of my job, I feel glad that it was in Alabama that I would be moving into. I actually spent my younger years in Birmingham and nothing would be happier than the chance to go back and meet up with old friends.
I would especially want to meet up with my dear friend Jon. Although we still communicate when we could, it would still be awesome to surprise him. He owns a website called MyWebPal and it has been my go-to website whenever I find myself in tough situations, as it offers a variety of possible problems that people would encounter in a day.
I wanted to leave everything behind in my apartment except for my clothes and my books. I seemed to have a separation anxiety when it comes to my collected books. I packed them into 8 boxes and had them shipped to my new place.
People consider a book as a tool for reading. But for me, it is more than that. I love books for many weird reasons. When I usually open a new book, I smell its covers and feel its textures. I am one of those bibliophiles who much prefer those old, musty, printed pages than those electronic books brought by touchscreen technology. I also view a book as an addition to the aesthetic details of a home. Everywhere in the house there’s a book strategically placed. I put books in my open cupboard in the kitchen. I have vintage books set as centerpiece in my living room. I think it’s making a space more pretty and homey.
There are noted evidences of my passion for hoarding books. Many times I’ve chosen to spend my money on an expensive rare book than shopping for a new pair of shoes. The second-hand book stalls are my favorite haven. I feel giddy every time I could glimpse on a store filled with used books from anonymous past readers. I also want to travel abroad and see the homes of my favorite classic authors. I just want to stalk and maybe peek on the workspace where they had spent the days writing a book.
I learned to love books when I was still in the 2nd grade. I spent most of my free time in a school library in Birmingham. I was reading Enid Blyton books while most of the kids are out playing in the field. Our school library was old but I loved spending my time there. I fantasized of having a home that would look exactly like a library.
When I got to Birmingham, I actually took the time to visit our old library. The friendly librarian was still there but the place no longer looked the same. The books were already gone and the place was in a huge mess. The librarian informed me that the library was being transferred to the new building because the place had been experiencing water flooding every time there’s heavy rain. I felt sad about what happened. Then I found myself reminiscing with her my days in the old library as a kid. Before I left her, she handed me a few old discarded books of my favorite authors. I left the old school filled with glee and nostalgia.
A sudden feeling of heroism rushed through me and I decided to contact Jon and tell him about the situation of the library. He said that there was not much to be done about the old library, but instead, he has helped in ensuring that the new one will be as homey and comfortable as the old one, but this time, it would be better protected from flooding and other forms of water damage. Believing Jon, I accepted the fate of the library. I was just thankful that I got the chance to see it before it was closed for good.
I can’t imagine my life without books. Reading stories makes us fall in love, devastated with endings or it teaches us life’s lessons. But I have my foremost reason why I love books. Spending time with a good book helps me escape from the madness of everyday life.