I didn’t expect to love it. It started out quite timidly with no loud fanfare or bubbling laughter, it meandered, it whispered, it silently padded barefooted around the edges of my heart space. It wasn’t love at first or second sight. It just wasn’t…until it was.
Now it’s inside my heart and I would chastise it for getting in there, but realized with a quiet gasp, that it simply belongs there. It made a place for itself among my tenderest sighs quite without my noticing.
This book. This lovely fucking book. Has found the softest place in my entire body, and made its home there all tidy and sweet.
I can’t explain. It just whispered my name, and I found myself answering like a stunned suitor.
To love a book is bliss, but to be completely adopted by one is something sacred.
This passage was the beginning.
They timed Sara in this chapter. Timed how long it would take her to look up from her book. A crowd gathered and they all hushed their voices in wonder at how long she could read without realizing she was being observed. This segment was the most delightful and wondrous thing. It’s indescribable the feeling of falling in love with a moment in a book. It’s not about romance, or laughter, or wonder, it’s about a small still moment that finds something inside you, that you were unaware was looking for this feeling. This feeling you needed but only a moment in a book was able to unearth and cherish within you.
The joy of reading is all about finding bits of myself and falling in love with her gently.
I can’t explain any better than that.