Why I love to read?
When I was I bored, I read Junie B. Jones and laughed at her antics.
When my sister was sick and away in the hospital, I could pretend she was staying with Amelia Bedelia and would be coming home soon.
When my parents were divorcing, I realized it wasn’t as scary as the Goosebumps books stuffed beneath my bed.
When I was angry, I could calm down in the arms of my favorite teen heart throbs (Tamani from Wings and Dimitri from Vampire Academy, I’m looking at you).
When I was alone and felt like the world may crumble around me, I could run and run and run forever with the characters in Stephen King’s Cell.
Even today, when I don’t think I’m going to make it, I can pick any book on my shelf and escape for awhile. That’s what books are – glimpses. Glimpses into worlds I will never see. I’ve made friends that I can’t talk to, met people that don’t exist (or did, but don’t anymore). I’ve had adventure after adventure – I’ve had a life full of impossibles made possible by words on a page. I’ve lived so many lives, all while never leaving the comfort of mine. Why I love to read?
Reading has made my life richer than any job or promotion ever could. Reading is happiness.
Thanks for reading.
Reblogged this on Spookymrsgreen's Blog and commented:
I have to share this one, because it resonates. I can name books for every important development stage in my life, and just recently I revived fond memories of reading ‘Anne of Green Gables’ as a child… my life is pretty much defined by books and reading, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thanks for sharing! I totally agree, and I could name all the books that accompanied me through my life stages, but it would be a very long list… 😉