For those who haven't heard, Borders bookstores are closing. When I heard, a piece of me died.

To me, Borders was not just a bookstore, it was MY bookstore. The staff know me not only by name, but also by my taste in books. Every visit, the cheery staff would suggest books for me - not by what I was buying that day, but by what I'd purchased in the past. We'd talk about literature, manga, cheezy pop lit, the abomination that is Nicholas Sparks, the lameness of Twilight, gems such as Water for Elephants, and the infuriating predictability of most paperbacks. Borders wasn't just a bookstore to me. It was a haven.

Today, I went to Borders to shop there for what may be the last time. At first, I was overwhelmed by the number of people tearing through the store. The line meandered through the sci-fi novels, past paperback romances and straight to the cook books in the back. Then I noticed the mess - books sloppily tossed in piles on tables with bright red sale signs. Panicked employees scrambling to locate the last copies of obscure titles for irritated customers. And scores of dissatisfied customers pawing through novels, complaining to the staff that twenty percent wasn't cheap enough. (Because the staff, who've all just been laid off must be THRILLED hearing complaints as they work their last few days at Borders!)

It felt like being in a WalMart.

And I know that I can shop at Barnes and Noble. I know I can go to the library (and believe me, I do - despite our governor's major cuts to library funding and their significant cut in hours). I know it's just a store.

Still, I teared up. Go ahead and laugh a bit because it is silly of me. Honestly, I'm going to miss the sense of community and camaraderie Borders provided.