Declaring "I love books" doesn't equate to an undiscriminating affection for all bound paper. Similarly, "I love reading" isn't a blanket endorsement of every printed word in existence. We've all got our literary crushes and genres that make us swoon, and then there are those books that, no matter how hard we try, just can't spark joy in our reader's hearts. However, life has a funny way of turning the page when you least expect it, and for me, that twist in the plot came with a certain someone's arrival.
The book just wasn't my cup of tea. It's not that the books were terrible, or the author was controversial. It's just that I couldn't seem to savor each sentence and grasping the core message felt like decoding an ancient script. But hey, anything for love, right? So, I dove in headfirst, pretending to be engrossed, nodding along to discussions about the profound 'depths' of the 500-page enigma. I played the part of the enthralled reader, all the while wondering what secret messages the author was trying to convey through a novel longer than a marathon. What's the big reveal? What's the fuss all about? What could possibly need this many words?
Throughout the night, I was engrossed in a marathon reading session, as if the pages held the key to my very existence. Foregoing rest and ignoring the stack of books waiting to be read, I immersed myself in the narrative, driven by the desire to share thoughts with him the following day. Fortuitously, the effort paid off. Our conversation blossomed, drawing us closer with every exchanged word. Each moment was precious, yet paradoxically, the thought of continuing the book filled me with dread.
As predicted, the charm offensive wore me out. In a dramatic flair, I seized the final book that echoed his radiant grin, the one he flashed when I concurred with the author's clever conclusion. I gave it a long, hard stare and resolved to see it through. "This is it," I declared. My grand plan? To read the last pages, tuck it into a box, and bid it farewell to the land of forgotten knick-knacks.
As the pages flipped by, I lost track of how many were left. Seizing another, I dove back in. It was a peculiar cycle; attempting to erase him from my thoughts only drew me closer to the one thing that echoed his memory. Falling out of love with someone is possible, but falling out of love with the books I adore? Now that's a plot twist I didn't see coming. Sure, he may not look at me with the same adoration I had hoped for, but his books? They get me. They really get me. It's like they have this superpower to peer into my soul. And the joy they bring? Effortless. It's the kind of joy that makes me question if he could ever match up. So, here's to the books that steal our hearts without even trying.
In a twist of fate, my efforts to win his heart were in vain, but his bookshelf captured mine. Now, he'll be eternally etched in my memory, not as a lost love, but as the sage who introduced me to a world of books.
Taking risks is part of life's grand adventure, and sometimes, it means making tough choices. I took the leap, and even though it meant parting ways with him, the journey was worth every step. The thrill of the unknown, the excitement of a challenge, and the satisfaction of following my heart—these are the spices that flavor the dish of life. And let me tell you, my life is now a Michelin-starred experience.
0 Komentar