I'm about halfway.
The Time Traveler's Wife
Ring a bell?
I chose this book for several reasons,
1. This book I recall picking up at a Half Price Book store exactly three years ago, and I remember making a mental note to read it. I read Twilight instead... why? Now that I think about it, I have no clue, but I do remember thinking at the time that Twilight was a light read, and The Time Traveler's Wife was harder, and confusing to understand the time differences.
I agree entirely with that.
But you remedy that by going along with everything. Stop trying to make sense of everything and putting everything in perfect order... when it comes to time, and emotions, and ... love you can't make sense of it, so go along, smile and forget what is "supposed to be" and "how it ought to be."
See the world as it is, not as it should.
2. Going on a roadtrip, I figured I'd pick up an audiobook as opposed to listening to music. Whenever I listen to music, I find myself lost in the melody. Lyrics... I don't listen to the lyrics. I mean, I can, but I have to tell myself to. And before I know it, I'm lost in my own thoughts again in time with the music. With a book, I would engage my mind and distract myself from the dangers of my own thoughts. I find I tend to worry, or analyze unimportant details...
3. Call me silly, call me cheesy and romantic, but I felt a certain empathy, an understanding for Clare and Henry as they'd go through long periods of time, waiting to see eachother. At times they were restless and they'd go through tough periods, but in the end, they'd know the happiness would justify every moment previous. I understood Clare when she'd describe how much she missed him, and I felt sorry for her.
4. At the same time, the concept completely captivated me. I'm a determinist, meaning I believe entirely on fate. Flawed, I understand, but it's how I think. My tragic flaw...
Anyways, Henry has the ability to bend time, to take his life in his own hands, yet somehow, fate runs its course, even for a man who time travels. I don't know how to explain this in a blog, hell I don't even know how to put this to words... but time and the ability to manipulate it and still have such a thing as "fate" intrigues me.
The ending of summer is bittersweet.
On one end, I'm ecstatic, I'll be returning to campus which I have labeled, home since the house I grew up in no longer comforts me, and everything only worsens. The only time where I am at peace is when I'm up in the early hours. I have received scolding for this early morning habit, so my peace now comes only when I sleep.
It's so different. The house feels different, the dynamic feels different, and although I never thought this would happen, and I spent only 2 quarters on campus, I'm fascinated in this turn-over. Fascinated and annoyed.
I never ever thought this would happen, afterall, this address has been my home for more than 10 years already, but several months away has made me change my mind. I guess I was ignorant to this, and now that it has happened, I'm perplexed.
Nevertheless, I'm glad to be back in a manner of weeks, I'm glad to see people I would talk with everyday, I'm excited to have a life of my own, to walk around and be places without the use of a car, to take walks in the early hours, to do cartwheels on the lawn at 1 am, and to finally be free to be who I am, to be able to take off this mask and be appreciated for who I am.
On the other hand,
I'm terrified. In the course of one year, everything has changed. The people I once spent every hour with has lessened, and my social circle has drastically changed.
I blame myself, entirely for this, especially that determinist philosophy of mine,
and although I know I am at fault for losing touch with my best friends, I still feel that life goes on, and holding on to things will only hurt when they pull away. Hell, it already pains to see the passing of friendships and the loss of contact, but I guess it's my way of moving on, of coping and dealing with the situation. Sometimes I can't help but feel that while I do care deeply for people, I would never want to impose my problems on them, and at this point there are so many that I fear people would only get tired of my bickering and whining.
And here I am, complaining on a blog... how ironic. I guess I just keep my life to only myself and one other, and the rest of the world can see that mask, I'm not quite ready to explain what it is I'm going through, complaining will only make you a burden to another.
That's tragic, especially since the remedy to tragedy,
is humanity itself.
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