Why Don’t You Stay? (Written March 27, 2014)
I didn’t have a thing to say,
Just didn’t want you to go away,
So I just talked and made up words,
Anything so I’d be heard.
I just wanted you to talk to me,
Just hoped somehow you’d maybe see
That I’d just love to be with you
And know you liked be’ng with me too.
So stay awhile and talk some more,
Laugh a bit like you did before,
It’s ok if it’s a little strange
If we keep talking it might soon change.
I just want for you to stay right there,
Just stay if you have time to spare,
I don’t mind if there’s not a word to say
I just don’t want you to go away.
I wrote a poem that sounded a bit like this a while back, but it wasn’t the same idea at all. That poem was about having somebody you really respect, a hero, that you wish you could just be friends with, but know that you can’t because they don’t stand in the same place you do. That was a poem about wanting to be friends with somebody like your parent or a teacher you really respect, somebody many years older than you- somebody you can’t really be friends with, in the traditional sense. This poem is about having somebody you like, or somebody you want to be friends with, or somebody you already are friends with, and trying to get them to stay so you could just talk to them. Just cause you like being around them. You know the people you’d talk like an idiot for, just to get them to stay around a little longer, for just a little longer of goofing off together. People you would do anything just to keep around for a few more minutes.
I just thought of a sort of strange application of this: it’s like wanting a story to go on just a little longer, just so you can be in it, be together with it, just a little longer, even if it is a little silly. I just finished the Flavia de Luce series by Alan Bradley. It was an extremely sad end to the series, I must say, and entirely excellent. Truly incredible series. But I have never had so much trouble not crying while reading in public. And then I got home and actually finished it and was just bawling. I can’t believe it is over! I wanted it to go on just a little longer, even just a page more, just so I could be with those character, be in that story even just a few words longer. That is sort of just how reading makes me feel. And when I read things like Chrestomanci by Diana Wynne Jones I feel it all the more acutely, because she is dead (may she rest in peace) so I know I won’t ever get to read more of it. It’s like loosing a friend.
“I was perpetually grief-stricken when I finished a book, and would slide down from my sitting position on the bed, put my cheek on the pillow and sigh for a long time. It seemed there would never be another book. It was all over, the book was dead. It lay in its bent cover by my hand. What was the use? Why bother dragging the weight of my small body down to dinner? Why move? Why breathe? The book had left me, and there was no reason to go on.”
— Marya Hornbacher
(I just thirty minutes looking for a quote that properly expressed how I feel when I finish a book. There were so many that I couldn’t pick just one at first. But I think this one does a pretty good job.)
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And hey! I was gonna just start listing all these quotes I liked, but I decided I’ll just make a page for those, so you should check it out!