i let go, i fell in

Growing up, my mother enforced the rule of never damaging a book by writing, drawing or highlighting in it. Folding over page corners to mark your place was severely frowned upon also and resulted in my ridiculous collection and obsession with bookmarks; no one in their right mind needs handfuls upon handfuls of bookmarks when you only ever read a few books at a time. Besides, that's what ripped up pieces of paper, old movie stubs or useless receipts are for.

It wasn't until recently that I threw caution to the wind and stopped believing and following Mother's Rule. There was no particular defining moment, and if there was, I can't remember it and as such, my story is kind of falling flat. The point of the matter is, one day I must have decided that a certain passage was worthy of remembering and that encouraged the pink highlighter to the kiss the forbidden page - folded over corner included! Naughty, I know. If my mother saw me, she would have had a seizure.

Ever since that fateful day, I've been folding over corners like a mad woman, and following it up with a good dose of highlighter. The books, ultimately, appreciate it I think. After all, the paper creases and ink stained pages only mean the book is all the more loved, much like the Velveteen Rabbit. Unloved things don't look shiny and new. That probably also explains why my teddy bear looks half dead -- I have no shame. I sleep with a teddy bear. I admit it.

Regardless, the book(s) loves it. They all love attention; every single page soaks it up.

"But he always had books. Books are the ultimate Dumpees: put them down and they'll wait for you forever; pay attention to them and they always love you back."
-- An Abundance of Katherines (p. 110)

I will forever be single - just me, my cats, and my books.