A Ridiculous Ode of Love

Last night was almost…magical.

I know, I know. How could an evening spent in the library be magical, of all things?

Here’s the thing. I’m in the midst of falling in love. The object of my rose-colored glasses? Provo.

Again, I know! Provo, of all places, is not a location with which to become enamored.

As I left the library at midnight (still don’t have the internet chez moi, unfortunately, hence the late-night library sessions), I walked out into the cool autumn air and looked up to see the faint silhouette of the mountains in front of me. The Y gleamed in the moonlight.

I walked across campus toward my car listening to Neko Case, and all the time allowing the joy that I have in my heart for this life that I’m living fill the whole of my being.

I jumped into a couple of puddles leftover from the evening thunderstorm.

I skipped down the long stairs toward Ernie, singing love songs to myself.

I thought of that scene in L’Auberge Espagnole where Xavier says, “After you’ve lived here, crossed this street 10, 20, 1000 times – it’ll belong to you…”

I belonged here. And here belonged to me.