Books are my new thing. They were definitely my old thing, back in the days when we didn’t have cable and the Atari was too tempermental to play it for more than three hours at a time.
So now that the cable company got hip to the fact that we had some rigged-up free cable due to a fluke, we’re back to 8 channels and have reconnected with our love of reading. We are some twenty-something bookworms up in here.
We go to the library far too often and were there today for a used book sale. These are great except we’re running out of bookshelf space. Today, among the Hershey’s 1934 Cookbook and Nights in Rodanthe (you can guess which one I bought and which one my roommate bought), I came across a real gem: He’s Just Not That Into You. We giggled, and I added it to my pile, and I didn’t think twice about it until I was putting it on the bookshelf later. I opened it and looked at the table of contents:
1. He’s Just Not That Into You If He’s Not Asking You Out
2. He’s Just Not That Into You If He’s Not Calling You
3. He’s Just Not That Into You If He’s Not Dating You
I could barely get to chapter 9- He’s Just Not That Into You If He’s Disappeared On You- without bursting into tears. I snapped the book shut, grabbed my glass of wine, and threw all my energy into cleaning up the mess I had made in the kitchen while attempting to get back into my domestic ways earlier in the day. I definitely fought back tears as just the wrong song played over and over on the radio I keep next to the stove. I scrubbed each dish a little too hard, as if I was scrubbing at my bitterness.
Some of the bitterness that built up as I was getting divorced has started to chip away. But I’ve subconsciously been replacing it with a new bitterness–bitterness about being unattached. Maybe it’s because winter is coming and no one likes to be alone in winter. Maybe it’s because I do a lot of third-wheeling and sometimes even fifth-wheeling.
All I know is that I was a lot happier living in denial. And then I picked up that book and I went downhill pretty quickly.