Up until recently when growing up has prevented me from doing so I would read like there was no tomorrow. I spent days upon days with my nose in a book exploring a multitude of worlds, getting lost in the words, all of which gave me false hopes for reality. Somewhere between the lines of the pages my reality was slightly shifted to something of a fantasy world and with the exception of Harry Potter I read mostly realistic fiction so although it doesn’t quite make sense, I’ll explain.
I want to fall in a coffee shop, look over my warm mug on a rainy day and see the man of my dreams. I want to sit with that man and laugh until I cry and cuddle while we stargaze. See? Doesn’t book life seem so much better than real life?
Growing up I thought when a boy liked me he would throw pebbles at my window and I would climb out my window,
not that I could actually do that, and we would whisper late into the night and then we would fall in love. I also thought that once you got to high school everyone dated, not me. Then I thought once you got to college you were basically already engaged and then right after college you got married and it was all because that boy threw pebbles at my window in the seventh grade. None of that happened, and I’m kind of glad, but I still think the pebble thing is cute.
Also, after reading so many books I learned to decipher who ends up with who and then I expected life to be like that too (after no boys threw pebbles at my window during the seventh grade). In books the main character usually only has two best friends, if they’re both girls, one of them has a very attractive older brother, but only by a year or two and they engage in a sneaky relationship until she inevitably finds out and is perfectly okay with it, and is excited that one day will be the both of you will be sisters. In the other case, you might have one girl friend and one boy friend, and in that case you fall in love with him, the boy that was in front of your face the whole time, but you didn’t notice until your ex-boyfriend was completely horrible to you and he was there to comfort you. Don’t worry about your best friend, she ends up dating your ex’s best friend, but you know he’s not as much of a dick like your ex was. The couples all live happily ever after too, it’s great. I always had more than two friends though, so I never fell in love with any older brothers and all of my guy friends were the dicks sooo that worked out well.
I think I have these types of expectations out of life (could be why I spending a lot of time and money at coffee shops) and I blame books for all of this. I’m waiting for a cute boy to approach me when boys think that girls want Express bags and Victoria Secret bags and Nike boxes dropped off at my door with a dozen roses. Some girls want to be the #WCW or be tweeted about, I’ll pass thank you. Books taught me to love the little things that people, not just boys can do for you. To me I would much rather receive a nice thought out letter than a bouquet of flowers, I would much rather spend time with someone, or get a phone call then check instagram and see a picture of myself.
I’m waiting though for my perfect book guy though. I deserve that and not the instagramers and the tweeters. One day. Or maybe not, we’ll see.