an uncanny reminder

I almost teared up when I saw this cover from across the table in Daunt Books. I was in an uncommitted relationship with it when I was a teenager, taking it out and putting it back, picking it up and putting it down. The cover is so distinct. I tried so hard to read it but never committed. Or maybe I did, I can’t remember now that I think of it.
I wondered why we forget things like this, and instead remember all that brings us pain.
I also felt a longing to return to my school library and feel this book in my hands for the first time again, with a naive certainty that I would complete it. Though the familiarity was welcome, the hindsight was debilitating.
Anyway, I bought it. I knew that copy belonged to me.

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