Stagnant

Passion

Books used to be a huge part of my life, my room was my library and libraries were my sanctuary. Elliot and I used to spend our time in the library, him reading sports magazines or history books, pointing out facts to me while I became lost in the world of the book I was reading, completely forgetting where I was and how long I was there for.

Most of the time Elliot had to drag me out kicking and screaming because the library was closing and I hadn't finished my book. He always had to promise to go there with me the next day just so I could finish it.

Even when I used to watch Elliot training my head was buried in either a literary book or one of this history ones Elliot loved.

But now books were hard. It was hard to find the motivation to read, it was hard to find the interest in books and it was hard to get out of bed without feeling utterly exhausted and lethargic. It was hard reading when whatever I read reminded me of the library I sat at with Elliot, reading while he was at rugby training, him reading history books and becoming Wikipedia when he'd start spitting out facts like rappers spit bars.

Most of my day was spent staring at a blank wall, my mind overthrowing me and hissing nasty and depressing thoughts in my ear. My mind was my own worse enemy, it reminded me of everything Elliot and it forbid me from doing anything that wasn't staring at my wall.

It's so hard to not believe what your own kind is saying to you. It's in your mind, you're telling yourself these things so surely they must be true. You believe your mind because it's one of the things that you've had your entire life and you'll have for the rest of it.

Your own worst enemy lives between your ears.

Bath was the next stop on our tour. The Roman built town named after the huge, calming and alluring Roman baths in the city. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering when we drove through the city, the beautiful Roman and Georgian architecture gleaming and mesmerising me. Spikes and stone buildings stood out, the beautiful and picture perfect river was something out of a fairytale, the medieval looking bridge standing tall and allowing crossings.

"Isn't Jane Austen supposed to be one of the best authors in the history of books?" He scrunched his nose as we walked around the museum dedicated to her life and books and movie adaptations.

He had insisted this be our day out in the city, somehow knowing Jane Austen used to be one of my favourite authors.

"She isn't supposed to be." I narrowed my eyes at him while he read one of the plaques. "She is."

He hummed. "Sure she is. I bet she was famous during her time."

"Jane Austen wasn't recognised for her books until after she died." I said firmly, staring at him in disbelief for his lack of knowledge. "All her books were published anonymously because in that time, who would want to read a book by a women? Women were so undervalued and just seen as housewives and child bearers and anyone who wasn't married wasn't seen as anyone important, like women in general. That's why she was an anonymous author. But instead of accepting that she never married and never had children they come up with theories and excuses, yes one of them might be true, but it's such an outrage that she didn't marry that they have to come up with stories and reasons as to why she stayed single. She wrote six major books that are amazing and opinion changing, they conquer female inequalities in a time period where women were only seen as objects and property, they weren't seen as humans, they were only discussed for marriage and children. Imagine that, being in the Georgian era, their only duty is to have children while Jane Austen was out there writing these inspiring and life changing books that showed women to be strong willed and fearless. They are arguably the best books ever written but that doesn't matter compared to her not ever marrying."