the boots , so worn out on the bottoms that if i stepped in a shallow puddle , my socks would be soaked , had been thrown away a week before i met james in the bar , and the book had been one that i had thrown into my book bag and taken with me , on that day when james and i had left my apartment , when i had chosen , with actual tears in my eyes and a hollow pit where my stomach had once been , the books that i would be taking with me .