Nothing can describe the joy when you open a new book. I just breathe in the smell of ink and paper, letting it fill my lungs as the anticipation for a new adventure begins.
How a person can live without knowing a fictional character becoming someone greater than who they were when they first started out is beyond me. How do you survive without the joy and pain, I want to ask them. But I can’t.
Because that would be rude.
So, instead, I bury myself in my books and ignore anyone who says it’s a waste of time.
Because they don’t know, do they? They don’t understand why I choose to live like this. Why I choose to live half of my life through books.
Continue Katelyn’s story next week on Thursday at 12 PM EST.