I was looking for something in my extremely messy desk drawers today when I came across my abridged copy of Wuthering Heights.
Our school had given it to us as a supplementary book when I was in seventh grade and I fell in love with it instantly.
Though I bought the original version and loved it just as much, that three year old abridged book is something that I will never want to lose. 
When I found it,I completely forgot about what I was looking for.
It’s nothing out of the usual really, for me to forget my actual purpose after coming across an old friend like that, and before I knew it my “just a peek” had turned into four chapters.
The odd thing was, that after I finally tore myself away, I remembered all the previous times I’d read that book.
That time when I had no new book to read, that one time in the car going somewhere, in school, and the night before the english test just to make sure I hadn’t missed something the last million times.
I remembered the things that had happened while I was reading this book. I remembered how I’d felt.

And this is not the case with only this book. It happens with every book I own.
When I open my copy of The Great Gatsby, I smile at the oreo crumbs still stuck between the pages.
When I read The Girl With Glass Feet I remember how happy I’d been the day I’d bought it, ecstatic at the thought of two new books to skip sleep for (the other was a collection of horror stories). 
My copy of Little Women reminds me of the summer project I’d based on it and spent hours over and then had my teacher just flip through the pages (I still resent her).

The list goes on.

The thing is, that I’m pretty sure that every book I’ve read will remind of the way I felt even if I read it twenty years later.
They have the same effect on me as photographs. 
They’re my personal time machines. 
Like dog eared pages I’ve left and will leave in the chapters that are the years of my insignificant life.

I don’t know if this ever happens to anyone else, or if all of this even makes sense, I would like to thank anyone who ever read this.

Until We Meet Again.



2 thoughts on “Remember?

  1. So I really liked the way you said “They’re my personal time machines.” That feeling of nostalgia is something that I am accustomed to,and definitely,books are something I just open and reminisce what exactly was going through my life. I get that feeling when I open a copy of The Kite Runner and think of my wonderful girlfriend who had lent it to me earlier. I read to remember,to mark a milestone in my memory lane. Because pictures are too mainstream.

    • They really are, aren’t they?
      And that was exactly what I wanted to say. The things we think, feel and experience while we read a certain book are tucked away in the pages when we’re done, ready for us to relive when we come back.
      Thankyou for reading, see you in school.

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