ten things

The library has both a tattered copy of Hamlet and a SparkNotes study companion. I skip my afternoon classes and sit in the corner of the library, both of the books open in front of me, trying to make sense of the play.

It's pretty boring, except for the Ophelia parts. Then I get to the section where Hamlet tells Ophelia that he'd never loved her at all, and I can almost feel the words being said to me. Feel myself mouthing Ophelia's line when she tells Hamlet, "I was the more deceived."

Because that's exactly how I felt, when Jared told me that I was just too much. It was like I'd been dismissed, like he'd looked into my soul and decided I wasn't even worth consideration. Like all his past feelings for me were nothing but lies. When she dies her watery death, I close my eyes and picture it.

Ophelia, reaching too far for an appealing branch of the willow tree, falling into the stream, wearing her crown of flowers like one last glimpse of beauty before death. Giving in, allowing herself to be taken by the rush of water, to be swallowed by the swirling waves. Willing herself to sink beneath the surface, to escape into the safety of darkness.

It hits too close to home.

Too close for comfort.

I glance up from the book and look around me, but no one notices me silently crying. I wipe the tears away with my sleeve and duck my face down, hiding behind my hair. Like that, I finish reading the play.