If someone would be asking me now if I have ever fallen in love, I would say yes. My love for books, especially now, is unparalleled. I know people think I'm crazy when I say I'm in love with the characters from my books. But, yes, I am indeed in love.
I have no idea what true love is. I don't even know if I can explain it in words. But that feeling as if you want to breakdown whenever you part, whenever I try to close the pages. I feel empty, lightheaded, out of this world.
As I read the last words of "Divergent", I feel like the world stopped on my feet. Or was it me who stopped in this speeding world? In two days, I felt so heavy whenever I have to do something else aside from reading. I was on my job interview when I was reading the book. The waiting time was like forever, so whenever I have the chance to read, I would. Fifty pages every time I have to go back to the waiting area. I can't wait for the next chapter to come. I didn't try to skim a single page. I wanted it to last, at the same time, I also want to know what will happen next. Every flip, every turn, it breaks my heart, knowing that soon, the book would end. Three parts, and I only have one. It's like reading the prologue and never read the whole story.
Every time I open the pages is like letting a sinkhole swallow me. Beyond every word, I fall farther. Getting lost in a book has been my favorite pastime lately. I let my soul wander in the world only readers know. Whenever I have to go back to the real world, it feels like I left a big part of me in their world.
Am I crazy for feeling like this? Maybe I am, but every emotion I spend on each page of my dead tree is all worth it.
I haven't moved on yet. Really.