If there is one thing I love to do it is read. When I was little if I got in trouble my punishment would be having my books taken away. I knew exactly where my Mom would hide the books too and when my parents were out of the house I would sneak and read them. Books are what whisk me away from this world, when I get bored with my life and there is no adventure to be had. I just pick up a book and am instantly placed into a world I dream about living in. If I'm having a tough time or just want to escape from the world I pick up a book. I don't run away from my problems but I make them more bearable by living some other persons problems for a short time.
It seems to stun people that I become so close to characters that when my book is over I mope around mourning that my adventure with that person is over. It also seems to stun them that I talk about the character as if they are real "Oh, Addie wouldn't do that" "Millie says that life is for living so, jump in!" It seems to drive my family nuts because they always have to guess at if the person is real or not.
I can bounce back very quickly after the end of a book because I jump right into another. But the book I just finished absolutely tore me apart. I can't read another book because I know that no other book could amount to how great this book was, for the moment. I want to relish in the pain of this one. The author did a lovely job of getting me emotionally attached to these characters. I never cry over movies or books but at the end of this book I was honestly so close to bawling my eyes out. In the epilogue she says that they live a happy life AND THEN THEY DIE AT AN OLD AGE. You are like, "Abbie, what is you problem? They are just book characters and everyone has to die." Yeah, yeah, yeah I know. But these were my friends!! And I'm sitting there and they die and I'm still at my ripe age of 16. I started the journey with them when they were young, I grew up with them, then I have to bury them and I have only aged a couple of days.
I have spent my whole day feeling the pain of loss. I can't stop thinking of my friends, I can't stop thinking about what they would do or that they would have laughed at that or how they would have grabbed life by the hands and done this or that outrageous thing.
I have been sitting here for an hour and a half trying to write this post but I just can't stop thinking about my book and to top all of that off, this post makes no sense.
So, just ignore all of my mindless chatter and have a lovely new year and do like Miriam would do and look at every moment as an adventure.