It Was Good To Walk Into A

It Was Good To Walk Into A Library Again; It Smelled Like Home.

Festina Lente (hurry In Slowly)

Boys Mystified Me, Although I Dreamed Vaguely Of Men.

I Was Filled With Angst In College, That I Struggled With The Question Of My Future, The Meaning Of My Life - Spoiled Sheltered Rich Girl Collides With Great Books And Is Devastated By Her Own Banality.

I've Read There Is No Such Thing As A Single Tear, That Old Poetic Trope. And Perhaps There Isn't, Since Hers Was Simply A Companion To My Own.