A message missed
The other day, I picked up my tattered copy of Umberto Eco's book, Foucault's Pendulum, and was determined to finish. For some odd reason, even though I love reading, and I go through plenty of books a year, I've never been able to finish anything by Eco. The book's worn and tattered by my many attempts to read it.
So anyways, I started reading, and I've finally gotten farther in the book than I've ever had before, when I noticed a small piece of paper sticking out. I purchased the book back in freshman or sophomore year of college. At the time, I was helping out this guy in one of my math classes because he just couldn't get the hang of matrices. I remember he had a bit of a crush on me, but I didn't reciprocate his feelings.
Back to that little piece of paper. I apparently found his love note to me, 7 or 8 years after he wrote it. Whoops! It even begins with this first sentence: "This is a love note." I guess it was just his luck that he happened to slip it into one of the few books that I've never been able to finish.
I guess it's always better to say what you feel instead of just writing it down.
So anyways, I started reading, and I've finally gotten farther in the book than I've ever had before, when I noticed a small piece of paper sticking out. I purchased the book back in freshman or sophomore year of college. At the time, I was helping out this guy in one of my math classes because he just couldn't get the hang of matrices. I remember he had a bit of a crush on me, but I didn't reciprocate his feelings.
Back to that little piece of paper. I apparently found his love note to me, 7 or 8 years after he wrote it. Whoops! It even begins with this first sentence: "This is a love note." I guess it was just his luck that he happened to slip it into one of the few books that I've never been able to finish.
I guess it's always better to say what you feel instead of just writing it down.