I'd hit my social limit for the evening when I wandered into the closet of a kitchen of my friend's house and found her and her boyfriend, sitting on the floor next to the sink, shoulder-to-shoulder, with their legs stretched out in front of them in enviable meaningful conversation. I was intruding, this much I knew.
But the room I left was initiating a nerf gun war, which was so far beyond my energy level that I braced myself to just walk out entirely when I stopped.
"Is that your copy of A Fault in Our Stars?" I asked my friend. I'd seen it countless times in the bookstore, tempting me. But a teenage book about someone dying of cancer could be really really good or really really bad, which, given my current job-hunting state, I couldn't justify finding out on my own dime.
"Yes. It's wonderful and sad. I read it in one sitting. You can borrow it if you like."
And so I did. A wonderful read. I enjoyed the experience of diving into a fictional world as much as the delicious experience of giving myself the time to read it in one sitting.
And then I went back the next day and read through my favorite parts all over again.
Thank you for friends who forgive the awkward.