Little Miss Muffet

When I was in high school, I would spend my money in buying new books or anything good to read. I managed to have my mini collection here in my room. But somehow, as I got too attached with my online accounts, my addictive side in reading suddenly vanished. I tried reading a series after the Twilight Saga and Harry Potter, but I never managed to finish it. I stopped at book three.
I tried to to revive it. I bought four books when I was in first year college. I managed to read two out of four. My special someone back then gave me a book as his sorry gift. He knows I’m addicted to books. He even bought one book of the series I planned to finish.

There’s this person who gave me another book, I saw it in my closet yesterday. It was still wrapped in its original packaging.

I opened it.

Flipped the pages.
The smell of new book.

I miss reading.

I miss spending time with my books.

Here I am, trying to finish this book. I’m in page four as of 2:31PM.

I hope I can finish this.

I miss having those weird moments where in you would just stare blankly at one corner and think of the scenes that are happening in the story. I miss the feeling of being irritated with the main character or villain. I miss thinking about the story’s alternative ending.

Creativity. Addiction. Reading.

Once I finish this, I hope I can read the other book I bought a year ago.

And all the books I left unopened.