Step #8: Rebuild with the bricks of your choosing.

I bought books today. I'm sure you're thinking, "Good for you, who gives a shit?" Perhaps I should explain...

I'm a reader. Reader, in fact, does not do it justice. I am a literature-nivore (and yes, I know that's not a word.) Each book I have read has been a relationship and much like relationships they have all shaped me into the person I am now. They haven't all been great--- there were short furious bursts of passion, cold fish that I didn't even bother finishing, the ones I stuck with out of obligation, and the pleasant surprisers. There have only been a few that have made me lament their departure, the ones I've begged not to go that have ruined me for all others. Notes scribbled wildly in the margins. Sentences underlined in marker. Salt-water from either the beach or my face rippling the pages. Mark made.

I spent a good portion of my adolescence, teen-age years, early twenties gathering these relationships and creating memories. My library was varied and complicated but I felt was the most precise description of me: my thoughts, beliefs and dreams. I had nearly 400 books (and yes, I read them all.) Please note the word: had.

A few years ago, my collection became a casualty of a long relationship that ended in the vein of the Hindenberg--- not. well. I spent nearly two years desperately trying to get them back. I contacted my ex, his family, his friends; I spoke to anyone who would listen about them and very nearly, put their photo on a milk carton.

Today, I wanted to rebuild.

I purchased four books (I had to stop myself at 4). Actually, almost 5. I replaced two that went down with the blimp, got two new ones, and entertained for about a second replacing my excalibur...the one. Believe me, the psychotic nature of not being able to replace a paperback is not lost on me. It's not just a book though.

I've read the same copy of my excalibur about 20 times, I've cried at the same times, wanted to underline the same parts, learned something new about myself with each old pencil scrawl in the margins. It's the same copy that I lent out hesitantly and begged people to read. It's the same copy that I implored my ex to read (before he became my ex) to just try and understand how I think and feel. And I'm pretty sure, it's the same copy that I lent to my now boyfriend. I'd like to think it helped us fall in love before we (or I) knew it. So, buying a new copy with no notes, no stains, no creases, no history isn't that easy for me. I know I will get there but, I just wasn't ready.

The decision to rebuild though, was a moment that I recognized as growth within me.

I will continue at my own pace to rebuild- brick by brick, book by book. It'll take time. Everything takes time.

Rome wasn't built in a day.