Romance In A Column

chapter eight,

Eryn Sallow is a solemn believer that time, or lack thereof, is no excuse for neglecting that which you claim to love.

And yet, as of lately, she is guilty of using her internship time and time again to justify the fact Eryn has let the things that nurture her slip between her fingers. Making no effort to even fist her hand, no attempt to catch them even by a thread.

Months ago, the recent graduate managed herself and her time in a way that allowed her to visit record stores and leave empty handed, however, with a list on her notes app with albums she's determined to listen to. In her schedule, there had even been time for evenings spent roaming downtown, in the lookout for cafes and restaurants whose names Eryn would log into the suggestion box for Astrid's column. Above all, Eryn Sallow would make and abide to the commitment of reading a book per month.

As a journalist, or at least an intern with a degree in journalism, Eryn is inclined to use sources. Consequently, she'll quote Carrie Bradshaw who once said "sometimes I would buy 'Vogue' instead of dinner. I felt it fed me more."

Though in Eryn's case, it's books rather than the fashion magazine—which she can't deny to being a fanatic of, as well. Such to a point, she found herself questioning her career choice in college.

A part of Eryn can picture herself in the present time as a writer, another part feeling it's a thought too fictitious. For one, she's albeit fond of the recounting events, giving a platform to heartwarming and heart wrenching stories. Lived, felt, tainted with tears shed due to joy and stained with red splotches of blood. They bring about a sense of tangibility, they promise the world is truly obscure as it is bright and that neither is escapable in this reality.

Partly, because Eryn doesn't think herself able to imagine and spin an intricate tale like Nicola Yoon's in the last book Eryn has read, The Sun Is Also Star.

Unsurprisingly, the promise of a cynic and a hopeless romantic conducting an experiment of love no less, had driven Eryn to purchasing it. Even dipping a little further into her pocket to get the hardcover copy, which hopefully she will one day get signed.

While it might've been pricier than she would've liked, Eryn can't bring herself to regret the purchase. Much less when, whilst the romance intertwined the two characters lives, their individual drives taught culture and custom, touching on expression within stereotypes and expectations as it did on racism.

Truthfully, the piece has so many layers to unearth and details to enjoy that Eryn, time and time again, has been tempted to reread it. More so now when she can feel the memories of the book being slowly but steadily pushed out of her mind, and if one is to ask her now about it she'd probably struggle to recite much more than the synopsis.

But she finds comfort in the vividness of the image of a single quote in her head. The black ink is a contrast to the pale paper being held by Eryn's delicate fingers and greedily consumed by her vibrant green eyes.

And while there's no certainty, Eryn would like to think she'll forever remember Daniel Jae Ho Bae's words to Natasha Kingsley, a matter of fact comment in which he states love isn't religion, it exists whether one believes in it or not.

Eryn has seen the theory put to the test and it hasn't once failed. This thought is also a comfort to Eryn. No matter the outcome of tonight might have, her dramatic self won't let the thought of love quiver nor tumble down from the pedestal she holds it to.

Elbowing the door, Eryn enters the sports bar where Matt Davis, her date for the night, had suggested they met up at. And she wholeheartedly believes its reputation precedes it.