I started reading Christopher Pike when I was in high school.
It all started with Die Softly, which a friend lent to me as she raved about the book. After that, I was hooked, and I devoured every Christopher Pike book that I can borrow from her. What little extra money I had left over my allowance then was spent on buying his books (well, those and cassette tapes LOL).
By the time I entered college, there were no more Christopher Pike books being sold in those big bookstores. I thought I would outgrow my love for his books as I had less of them to collect. But then I discovered a bookstore in the UP shopping center selling used books, which was a delight in itself already, but then I saw old Christopher Pike titles in there, and I was in love all over again. I scoured Booksale branches and other used-book stores just so I can find more Pike books.
Over the years, I've lost some [to I don't know where :(((] and gained more [as gifts, or unreturned loans LOL]. And here's my current stash:
Dear Old Love
How To Make An American Quilt by Whitney Otto:
As the twentieth century draws to a close, heads shake at the high divorce rate, the brutalization of the love affair, left in neglect or disarray. Leave that old lover. Move on. Take the A train. But in the dark of your room, you may be moved to admit to yourself that you only thought you fell out of love or grew tired of it (grew tired of a small miracle of the heart?), when in reality you may not have felt love at all, but something entirely different. Once you love, you cannot take it back, cannot undo it; what you felt may have changed, shifted slightly, yet still remains love. You still feel -- though very small -- the not-altogether-unpleasant shock of soul recognition for that person. To your dismay. To your embarrassment. This, you keep to yourself.
Why are old lovers able to become friends? Two reasons: They never truly loved each other or they love each other still.
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