Why I’ll Never Get Rid of My Books

Some things you are meant to keep

Image for post
Image for post

I had spent four years teaching high school English because I felt compelled to inform people of the power of Gatsby’s light.

Luminous, romantic and out of reach. It tore my heart up, teaching. I spent more time in the principal’s office than my kids.

Image for post
Image for post

I turned out the light in the garage and went to bed, not even remembering what I was looking for in the first place.

Weeks later, I wanted to find my copy of Fahrenheit 451. I went through every box. I pulled out every book. Some I pulled out ran my fingers down the spine.

I almost walked away from every word. It was like I boxed myself up. Threw it aside. Deemed it unnecessary.

I sat there in my garage with The Violent Bear It Away in my hand and I wanted cry. The same book I let two students read in lieu of whatever book I was teaching that they could not stand. I created lessons and tests just for them because they were smart enough to get it and not tell my principal I went off curriculum.

I almost gave away my books and in the process my heart and my soul. These books had made me… me.

I had, however, kept that part of me that would wake up in the middle of the night because I had to find one particular book with one particular poem and absorb myself in that very moment, no matter the hour, and I’m glad I did.

Written by

Flaming pinball, nerd, music lover, wine snob, horrible violin player. No, I won’t stop taking pictures of my drinks. vanessaltorre@gmail.com IG: vanessaltorre

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store