I love it when she reads.
I love it because she is most comfortable when holding a book. I love how oblivious she is to the world when it is just her and whatever universe the book pulls her in, how she spent hours without even noticing. It’s fascinating to watch her various expressions throughout reading, how her forehead wrinkled as something bad happens to character in the book to her little squeal when the plot surprises her. Pure bliss. She always desire at least to try living in thousands life, curious how it feels to be in someone shoes and through reading, she satisfies it like a child who experience things in Kidzania.
I love how honest she is about the book, how she becomes so opinionated and enthusiastic when discussing it. Suddenly she seemed full of feeling, sense of thrill when start reading or sense of longing when finishing a book. Sometimes I get jealous when she falls in love with character. Not the main guy, but side character everyone barely notice it. She roots hard for the characters’ happiness. She perceives characters as human with flaws and weaknesses as she dearly embrace them. I love when she manages to turn reading into something personal. Something real even if it is fantasy or more shocking thriller one. Even some scientific journal can be interesting topic. It isn’t only about words to words, but finding the heart of the writing.
I love how her face lighten up every time she sees pile of books. Like full bookcase at home is never enough. She can be so generous with books, yet so picky about it. Sometimes she reads book no one ever read it. She says some good writers unfortunately don’t have recognition they deserved and she wants to be someone who appreciate their works. Reading festival, book discount bazaar, or reading app is her kind of paradise.
Again, I get jealous when I have to compete with her love of readings. She has no particular love for the smell of books, but she can read them over and over again, while eating, waiting or cuddling, using phone or paper kind. She can read them until she memories the page, the exact sentences character said or trivial things mention in the book. She can read them until the page starts to loose from its binding or it turns yellowish because it’s too old or her phone battery is critical. Her books are her most precious treasure, how she wrap its cover using plastic to protect it. Her policy not to fold the page. Use bookmark, she says strictly. I love reading her careful personal written message in very last page of the book to commemorate how she got it and her feeling when she got it. Even her online library is arranged meticulously.
It always amaze me how clearly I can see her insight of the world through what she read or how does she feel through her choice of reading. I don’t have to read too to know who is this Newt guy or Park guy she mention often. She can be a really good judge of characters. She triggers me to think. She is quite yet her world and the world beyond it is rich. And if it is possible, I love her a bit more for that.
I want you to know that it’s okay if you take time to read. It’s okay to be a bookworm. Because it is your personal moment to be with yourself. To enrich your feelings and your soul. Because I know no matter how far reading takes you somewhere, you will comeback to me. To share about it with your big excited smile. To let me be part of that words journey.
To the girl who most comfortable while reading,
May bliss of words always be with you.