Addicted

I never thought I would open the pages of that novel. It was so stupid, so rediculous and childish. I must have been extremely bored; sitting there and noticing it standing on the shelf along with its sequels. I opened it, casually reading the preface. It was amazing, it sucked me in within seconds. The way the words were so intriquetly thought out, but yet so simple. I didn't dare put it down, almost worried about what I would miss if I did. I went into the only private, quiet place in my home: my bathroom. I sat and read each word and sentence so carefully. my head so overwhelmed by the way it was written, I had never read anything like it. It was descriptive, but not to the point of boredom. It was enpowering and suspenseful. Everything a great novel required, but it was unlike any novel. Every word was stitched together flawlessly. It was the most difficult thing to put down. The only time I was willing to was when sleep was vital, when i knew i can dream about that one beautiful character. I understood now the reason why millions, probably even billions, of people were so drawn in. I was now a part of the mass of overly obsessed fans. I was one of them. Every time I read even just a little bit, especially when he spoke, my heart pounded so hard, my lungs seemed to not work. It felt like what she must feel like when he looked deep into her eyes with his. My lips were always curled up into a smile. I had the urge to cry, just by the words typed on the pages. Yes, i was in love. maybe just with him. I couldn't get it out of my head. At school, at dance, at dinner, church, nowhere. I put myself in her position, I read it as if it were me. I wished it was. Everything was so perfect, but at the same time, the farthest away from perfect. I was so engulffed with this fascinationg book [it was just a book, I had to remind myself] and it was only the second day, i was only half way through. But i didn't ever want it to be over. I longed for it to just come to life.