The other kind of love I'm talking about is the love that it might start out the same way, with the bus ride meeting, like me and Honeybird, but most likely it's a friend of someone, or someone you know from work or you grown up with in the same place. Love has a sneaky feeling. You go out together, start hanging around each other, you know. Get used to looking at each other's face. I ain't telling you nothing you don't already know, it's just you asked me so I'm telling you. Hanging out, then one of you is hanging in, stay overnight one time. One time become two times, two turn into four. Next thing you know the person ain't leaving.

There might come a time when you start wondering well why ain't this person leaving? Who do they think they is just come walking in one day and don't leave? And they might be wondering the same thing, themself. And maybe it get so you can't tell whose place is whose no more so you can't tell which one of you it is that's coming in and which one it is that been there all along.

You might be thinking ain't so precious to be having that kind of a thing with somebody where they coming in and messing up your things like that, but I've been around a long time and I'll tell you I'm tired of having all my things in order. Or maybe you thinking there's a lot of people in the world. Last I heard tell was five billion. There's a lot of books in the library, too, but how many you gone read? Maybe a thousand, if you a fast reader. And out of that thousand how many you want to go out and buy? Ten? A dozen? And even out of only just that many you still gone have only one that's your favorite.

You ain't gone pick some dime store novel as your favorite, neither. Don't no one go marrying no dime story novel just cause it have a flashy picture on the cover of some lady getting it on in the sand. You want something with a little heft to it. A book that take a long time to get through and even longer to figure out what it's saying. Book that stays with you. Book you try and figure out what it means even when you left it sitting at home and ain't got it under your arm. You thinking about it when you on the bus, a passage come back into your mind, when you ain't expecting, and plays with you for a while.

Maybe it ain't so much a decision to make. Maybe after awhile we just get tired of reading. There come a time you realize you read enough, you ain't got no more time to waste looking at books trying to figure on which one is your favorite. Otherwise you might wind up old, read plenty of books, but now your own cover is coming off; you can't find your place and you done lost the one story you realize now you liked best all along.

Just keep this in your mind. Everybody gets old, and everybody gets ugly. You got someone keep you feeling happy most the time, that's enough. You can't expect much more from this world than that.