klhamo

The library was probably about a mile from our house, so I’d ride bike there in the summer and spend a few hours reading or looking for books (I was 13 ish for context.) I had pretty severe social anxiety.

So, I’m in the library by myself, and I just can’t find anything to read. I think to ask the librarian, but my brain is telling me “you’d be bothering them” and things like that. I debate this in by head for probably a good ten minutes before I decide to go through with it. It takes me a good ten minutes to walk twenty feet to the front desk.

She’s sitting there, writing on a paper. I stand and wait till she’s done, then say “excuse me” because my parents were very insistent on manners.

She says something along the lines of, “What can I help you with?”

I ask if they have a list of book suggestions or if she has any book suggestions for me.

I’m not exaggerating when I say her face lit up.

She hurries out of her chair and leads me all through the young adult section, giving me some awesome suggestions and asking me about what types of books I like, etc. We spend a good twenty minutes on this. She was really excited about giving me books to read, which made me a lot less self-conscious.

Eventually, she recruits her other librarian friends to also help me find books (there weren’t many people there, they were going to be closing soon) so I’m parading around the library with my librarian entourage, getting book suggestions and having the time of my life.

This librarian helped me more than she realized just by being genuinely excited to help me out. It made me more confident in social situations in the future, and today, I can truthfully say that I can manage socializing pretty well. Her book suggestions were spot on and excellent.

Also, she was talking about this book and described it “like a really well written fan fiction,” and that’s how I got introduced to fan fiction.

Sakura season.

My favorite things in life

Cats

Books

Take me back to when our innocence was still untainted When stolen smiles and brushed knees made me weak Take me back to the pure hues of the images we painted When coloring within the lines is the only desire that we seek

Take me back to the butterflies, to the flapping wings and freedom When they mingled with flowers as we wished for the ability to fly Take me back to the starry evenings spent listening to our dreams’ hums When all our mornings are welcomed with gratefulness and smiles

Take me back to our sloppy letters, when our words still haven’t grown teeth When we don’t need to read between the lines for everything is said and done Take me back to when our kisses don’t feel like drawing a knife from a sheath When caressing in the dark means dancing with the sun