The Unsolvable Equation

Twenty-eight

Five days before her trip to France, Alexia finally considered the possibility that she might need a French-to-English dictionary. After a long battle with her pride and sufficiently soaking herself in self-denial, she conceded that a trip to the bookstore was in order. It wasn’t that she had a problem with immersing herself in the midst of knowledge, quite the contrary, in fact, it was just that the idea of getting a learning guide, a learning guide, for God’s sake, had never crossed her mind. Needless to say, Alexia did not enjoy the walk to shame to the language section. Every book seemed to pop out at her, mocking her incapabilities and need for assistance. I’m not actually going to use it, she frantically rationalized in her mind, her heart racing as if the strangers in the bookstore were judging her actions. It’s just in case a come across a word that, God forbid, I don’t know. But I’ll be just fine without it. This is just in case.

She quickly glanced around to make sure no one saw her commit her great deed of dishonour, and swiftly picked up the smallest, thinnest book. She deftly hid it behind her back and shuffled to the cashier. Along the way, Alexia couldn’t help noticing the philosophy section, looking significantly different, with the order of books changed from the last time she was there. They must have gotten new stock!She thought excitedly. Philosophy was the only topic that really got her interested these days, as the world constantly driving itself mad over traditional moral foundations meant more debates for her. Like a magnet, she found herself being drawn to the neatly lined works of art on the shelves and couldn’t help browsing through some of the books. I’ll be really quick, no one would even see me.

“I’d thought I’d find you here.”

For the upteempth time, Alexia found herself cursing fate and Murphy’s stupid law as she executed another of her awkward turns to come face to face with Almier. He broke into a big goofy grin that made Alexia question her very reasons for avoiding him for so long and walked towards her. “Philosophy, eh? Why am I not surprised,” he remarked fondly.

Alexia tried to conceal the book of shame behind her back and managed to choke out nervously, “Oh, hey, Almier! What are you doing here?”

“Picking up some reading material for the plane ride,” he waved Julius Caesar at her.  

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Wow, someones into Shakespeare.”

Almier groaned. “Actually, no. I just signed up to tutor some kids over break and this is the book they’re doing. Trust me, I’d much rather be doing something else.”

“Why? I’ve read it and it isn’t half bad.”

“I’m just not very fond of someone who feels highly enough of himself to create his entire own language,” Almier replied, staring at the book in disgust.

“Why, Almier, but it’s classic literature,” Alexia teased.

“That’s only what the experts tell you, and at the end of the day, the experts are no more than people with an opinion, just with an elevated platform to express it on.”

“But they have studied literature for years,” Alexia argued, even though she didn’t have a clear stand, she was interested to see Almier’s rebuttals.

Almier scoffed. “What they have been studying is how to phrase their opinion on art in such a way that it appears objective instead of subjective. Which is pretty ironic, considering the subjective nature of art.”

“But isn’t there a certain standard set already?” Alexia pressed on, eagerly awaiting Almier’s reply.

“And who sets that standard? The experts! What if they suddenly rotated around and decided that chickflicks were now to be studied in every school, because they were the bench mark for high literature? Society would completely turn over! Natalie and her bunch of friends would become the geniuses of our time!”

“But surely the standard has to be set somehow? It can’t all boil down to subjectivity. Lets say, if Da Vinci were to display his works today, they would still be considered good art.”

Almier pretended to tap her mind. “That’s what they want you to think! But it does in fact, all boil down to subjectivity, because it at the end of the day, everything is based on definition. You want to use the example of Da Vinci? Fine! What is art anyway? Is it concept? Or is it technical skill? What even is good technical skill, anyway? You see the problem here, Alexia? Someone had to come up with these definitions, and that someone had to have an opinion. Or it could just be a collective agreement by society as a whole! Basically, in truth, no one is actually good at anything, they just fit the mould better!”

They just fit the mould better. Fit the mould better.

Was this a sign that Almier was indeed the one for her? The one that fit her requirements, her match made in heaven? Sure, he was smart, charming (sometimes), perfect for her, so why could he possibly be lacking?

Come on, isn’t it obvious that he’s the one? He fits the mould better than anyone else ever could? Caden can’t even begin to hold a candle to him!

She stared hard at Almier, still fired up and ranting, which sounded like music to her ears. He’s the one. He is the one. He is definitely the one, she kept repeating in her head until it became a mantra, hypnotizing her into making the right decision.

I just hope I’ve got my definitions correct.