Excerpts From A Book I'll Never Write

The Untold Story of a Bibliophile

Wanting something you can never have but knowing you will never get it, and dreaming about it anyway. Hoping and waiting for your fairytale to finally start, but it never does. You cry and scream and it wrecks you. All you want is to be fictional and to be loved by fictional people. All you care about is these characters you've spent your whole life reading about. All you want is to be in a world like theirs. Where magic is real and dreams come true and happily ever afters are real. A place where people defeat the bad guy, and are crowned heroes that saved the world. Where is all of that? Where's my story? My prince charming? Where's my happily ever after? When do I become the hero? And save the world?

And your mind has become a place of dispare because you know, you feel it in your heart, that you will never be loved like a fictional character. You will never have the epic story you dream about every day. You will never fight the monsters hiding in the shadows, will never weild magic, will never soar through the sky on the backs of dragons, will never march across lands ready to start an uprising. And do you know why? Because this is the real world. Where dreams are broken and scattered like shards of glass on the ground. Where love isn't love and happily ever afters are rare. Where magic isn't real and dragons are just a myth. This is the real world where people are crying and dying and you can't do anything about it. You can't be their hero because you can hardly save yourself. This is the real world. Its Broken, Bloody, and unfair; but we deal with it because we have no other choice but to live through the suffering in hopes that one day, maybe one day, we will finally get our fairytale.

And perhaps this is a love story. A one sided love story. Twisted and flawed. Screwed up and unfair. We fall in love with these world's. These Characters, but they never know. They can't feel us, hear us, or love us. We go numb with the thought of staying here, of becoming just another hopeless soul trying to stay alive in a world of brokeness and it makes us crazy. It drives us insane. We tear through book after book to get our fix. To feel alive. Maybe that's why we read: To feel like we belong. That we might achieve something great if we just keep these stories inside our hearts. Locked away until such a day where they might come to life. They say love is a powerful drug. They're right.