My love for reading is back

Ive recuperated my love for reading and im overwhelmed with how much of myself i have gained by it. I have promised myself to read at the every least 2 books per month. Ever since i could write, ive kept a journal and suddenly stopped but for a good two weeks, ive kept a record of everything that has been going on in my life and it feels great to trust paper and led my pencil be my confidant. I no longer sit down in my purple room staring at my walls wishing i could tell people my dreams and goals or what i aspire to become, i could just write it down and when everything i work towards comes true, i could read back to the moments i doubted myself. I am becoming happier just by reading. I am becoming happier with the way i think and express my fears, my worries, my thoughts to myself. Who else cares more than i do about myself more than myself? who else understands me more than me? Nobody. Wow it feels like it took me forever to understand what my brain ws trying to point me towards all along. By reading, it has taught me to wait for that one guy whose idea of a date is at Barnes & Nobles and knows about the Scarlet Letter. If the last time he picked up a book was in middle school, then his personality does not match mine.

Pardon me for not doing as expected and calling you or texting you like i got in the habit of doing. Im a heartless being looking for a fire i thought you could give me better yet a flame or even a spark but i recently have noticed ive never been anywhere cold as you.