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In a desperate attempt to find a post I could actually finish, I asked for inspiration. Rather, I demanded that someone tell me what to write about.
“So you wrote about reading, what if someone took that away from you?”
What if I lost, not literally my ability to read, but perhaps, my ability to feel while I read? I don’t know about you, but I usually read for an escape, so to not be able to feel when I read something would totally defeat the purpose of reading. Nevermind the author, or the story, or who you think is prolific versus someone who writes for “people who can’t read”, but what if, during your favorite part of your favorite story, the one you read over and over and can’t put down, you couldn’t feel anything? What if you couldn’t let those words, those pages, those moments totally take over and take you away?
Now, before you start taking this too literally, think for a minute. What is your favorite hobby? Running? Do you feel alive when you hit the pavement? What if you couldn’t feel that? What if you just went through the motions and got nothing out of it?
I’ve been there. In my case, there were so many books that I would start but couldn’t finish. There were some that didn’t even get a shot at being read because the title, the cover, or the first couple of pages didn’t grab me. So what if it was like that all the time? What if your escape, be it running, reading, listening to waves crash on the shore, WHATEVER, was taken away?
I know that a good chunk of my life would be missing.
Okay, think of it like this. Imagine that instead of books, it’s a crush. Pretend, just for a second, that we’re talking about matters of the heart, not a book. What if, in the instance of a crush, from here on out, you didn’t get butterflies, you didn’t smile like a goon every time the phone rang, and you didn’t feel like someone was doing a gymnastics routine in your chest? What if, from here on out, you couldn’t feel?
That would suck, right?
Maybe I should relate books and love – since you’re used to me writing about the pursuit for love anyway.
I think I’m on to something.
Jamie got me thinking tonight with this post about the delicate anatomy of a crush. Because a crush, in many ways, is a lot like the part of the book that I described in the last post. The part where it’s all happy and wonderful and excellent, the part before it gets complicated. Before there are walls. And baggage.
Pretend, again, that the post about reading was about a crush. If you re-read that post with that mindset, then instead of finding a book, I found a guy at Disney in 2005. And instead of it being a book that I never finished, it was a relationship that was never over. We “kept in touch” and then out of EFFING nowhere, there’s a little reunion.
Now, bring it back. Do you see how rediscovering reading could rock my world over here?
I have a feeling this analogy is going to be crystal clear or incredibly confusing.
Jamie put it so simply:
And, so it goes. You crush. You move on. And you hope to god that one of these days you find someone who you don’t want to live without, who will stop you, and tell you they can’t live without you, too.
Like I’ve said before, I love this part of every story. The part where it’s all butterflies, goofy smiles and all of the good stuff before things get complicated. All of the OMG-my-heart-is-racing and I can’t wait to turn the page. That moment where you’ve decided you want to read this book cover-to-cover and then you hope there’s a sequel. And then a movie. And then an autobiography because you don’t want this story to end until you do.
Are you with me here?
Books, running, crushes, it’s all the same. If you can’t feel it, then what’s the point?