I absolutely love to read
On a cold evening at the farm there is little better than curling up with a book and a cup of tea under a multitude of blankets. There is, however, one painfully large downside to a good book. It is so very hard to come back to your own reality having been immersed in another for so long. With a really good book, I feel a little bereft when I have finished, a little lost.
I was snapped out of a reading binge yesterday and found myself almost in shock at the fact that my own life was so utterly different to that of the book. Unfortunately I’d also just hit the part where things were coming together to make everything right which meant real life was so much less satisfying than the book too.
I love the escapism and the feeling of wrapping oneself into a story. I hate the huge bump when you find yourself facing the harsh truth that real life is not quite what literature can make it into.
It is a strange feeling. But I still love books.