Living For Love
Her name was Marina Keegan. I met her in Trident Booksellers and Cafe in Boston, Massachusetts in August of 2017.
She was the kind of person that welcomes you as an old friend upon meeting them for the first time. Her voice was rich with wonder, compassion, anxiety, youthfulness, and appreciation. She was beautiful, her eyes reflecting a contagious ferocity for living. But she didn’t live. Marina Keegan didn’t see past twenty-two.
That summer day in that Boston Cafe when I picked up The Opposite of Loneliness, a posthumous collection of essays and stories written by Marina Keegan, something changed within me. I got to know Marina through her voice. Her writing style was unlike anything I had read before. It was young, alive; it reminded me of myself, the way my inner thoughts casually narrate the world around me. As I wove through her short stories and essays, I felt as though the way I wanted to write was being validated. She inspired me, and continues to inspire me every day. She did not have so much time, but she lived and wrote and loved as if she did, and the writing she left for us on this planet will forever be my driving force.
Trident Booksellers and Cafe was squeezed between a thrift boutique and a humble barber shop on Newbury Street in downtown Boston. What appeared to be a tiny shop at its entry stretched deep into the block with tables full of college students pouring over books, and tourist families like mine scanning menus for delicious Boston eats. We settled into a booth and ordered our brunch, which would take a while to arrive. It was at this point that I stole away into the heart of the store, lured by the shelves of books and eclectic trinkets.
As I turned a corner, I was stopped in my tracks by a girl with long brown hair and a bright yellow trench coat looking at me. They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but her amused, knowledgeable eyes told me that what was on the other side of her picture was important, and in fact, urgent. Maybe even soul-saving. I picked the volume up and, lost in the stacks of books, immersed myself in the introduction.
I didn’t mean to. My food was slightly cold by the time I made my way back to the table.
Finding The Opposite of Loneliness, was like catching a glance in a mirror and recognizing myself for the first time. The book became my bible; my personal treasure. Never had I found deeply personal insights and ideas that spoke to me in such an accessible manner.
What stood out most to me most upon that first read was one quote that encompassed the terrible, beautiful irony of the book: “We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time.” Marina Keegan wrote these words to her Yale graduating class shortly before being killed in a car accident. She was twenty-two, with an incredible future unfolding. Marina Keegan was young, and she ran out of time before one is supposed to. This bothered me deeply. But it bothered me the way unknowns often do: I became motivated.
Marina Keegan reminded me that I am still so young, and I hope to have so much time left in this world. Though I struggle with her tragic death, I have come to appreciate the irony of her hopeful words, as they tell me more about asking questions and searching for answers while I’m still able to.
None of us know how much time we truly have left, but what we do know is that we have today. I want to use whatever time I have to continue finding joy in the little things each and every day. I want to live with appreciation. I want to love boldly. I want to be unapologetically vulnerable. I want to be patient. Forgiving. A friend.
“I will live for love, and the rest will take care of itself.” -Marina Keegan
