M I R T H

I'm in a weird headspace at the moment, so just bare with me. I finally finished reading the book Eat, Pray, Love--and, if you've seen the movie, please disregard it for the purposes of this blog post.

It needs to be said that I almost always get into a strange headspace/mood after I've finished a book (the exceptions being textbooks and the like). I think, though, that my book read, that is, fiction reading, process is a bit strange. When I pick up a book, I skim the back cover/inside of the dust jacket to see if it's something I could get into/want to read. If I'm in a bookstore, I may even read the beginning pages just to see it's style and characters. If I'm sold on it, I'll buy it.

And then, at some point in my reading, usually when I'm just about getting a feeling for the characters and the storyline--right when I'm starting to feel invested in the book and have decided how I would like things to end... I skip to the back of the book and read the last few pages or last chapter, or the epilogue.

Why would you do that?

Many people have asked me this.

But I have always been this way, I think. Movies and books and the like are never "spoiled" for me by knowing the ending. If someone has seen a movie before hand, and we are discussing the points of the movie, I always say, "you can go ahead and tell me the ending, it's not gonna spoil it for me." Because it doesn't. I think the process of getting to an ending is more exciting, often, than the ending itself. And I just like to know. Especially if there's a romantic twist to the story. I like to know that the characters I'm getting invested in are going to give me the ending I want haha.

Anyway, with books, whenever I get towards their end, I always get a bit sentimental--it's even worse though, when it's a book I've thoroughly enjoyed. It's so bittersweet. I can't wait to get to the ending, although I know how the end will play out, and yet I also get sad that I'm almost there.

I catch myself reading slower, drawing out the sentences, the paragraphs, the pages. I let passages stew in me longer, let ideas bounce in my head longer. Wanting to hold on to this story, this unfinished relationship just that much longer. But inevitably it happens. Despite all my hesitation, all my reluctance, I do, finally, reach the end.

It's over. Finished. DUNZO.

And I'm happy it's over; I'm happy I saw it through to the end; happy that I have a new friend to add to my collection. But I'm also sad, as if I've been on a journey with this person as my guide, but they've now taken me as far as they can, so now they have to say their farewells, departing from me and letting me go on by myself. Like all relationships, I'm glad for the time spent together, but I understand that I can't stay with them always and forever.

Today I finished Eat Pray Love. I really enjoyed the book. Without saying too much, I would just like to note that it was exactly the kind of book that I needed in exactly the time that I've read it. It resonated with me a lot more than I thought it would. True, I'm not yet in my thirties, nor have I ever been married (not even close), nor have I experienced the trauma of a divorce...

But I think I was going through my own struggles, watching my own worldview shift in ways unknown to me this year. I carried this book with me to the banks of the Schuylkill river, where I sat eating cake and crying until the sun came down.

Like I said, I think this book came to me in the time that I could appreciate it best. It touches on subjects that are common to the human experience, which is why it was just so relatable. Part of the reason why it took me so long to finish, especially when I was reading it in Philadelphia, was that I kept having to pause, to reflect, to process.

Anyway, anyone else have any strange reading habits? Or am I the only one who likes to skip to the end?