Hello. You may not know who I am, but I know you. I don't know what you look like or sound like, but I know you. I don't know your name or your personality, but I know you. You don't know anything about me, and I don't know anything about you. Our knowledge of each other is slim, but as you read this book, I hope we can get to know each other. And as you read this book, I can already feel a deep bond forming between us.
You may see me as nothing but a book. I know, I am only words on a page that you've decided to read, but a person in a book can grow on the reader, like moss on a cold, damp stone. And maybe you're already getting bored, but please, for the sake of kindness, give me a chance. Let me begin to grow. Let me become the moss that grows on on the cold, damp stone that is your heart.
Even as my story continues right now, you know that I am not real. You know I am truly, just words on a page, yet you still are growing fond of me. Maybe it's the way that I am written? The way you see me in your head? Do I resemble someone you've always wanted to meet? Or am I a past love you cannot get over? What do I look like to you, friend? What do I sound like? See, now you're asking yourself the same questions I ask, hoping my mind will give me something I can think of when I want to think of you.
If I were more than just words on a page, I'd reach out of this very book and begin my life with you. I'd see who you truly are, not just physically. I'd understand who you are on the inside, as you would understand me. I'd touch your hand, not caring if it's warm or cold, and I'd lead us to paradise.
Right now I think of how beautiful your name is. I want so desperately to hear it coming from your lips, but I know that cannot happen. I bet your name just rolls of the tongue easily, leaving the sweet taste of honey behind as it leaves. I bet it sounds like the chirping of birds in the morning. I wish I could tell you my name, but that's not what I was written to do. I am simply here to entertain.
As you reach the end of this first chapter, I think we can both tell we will grow to be great friends.
Has my moss already grown on your stone?
YOU ARE READING
Simply Words
RomanceThe character in a book begins to fall in love with you, but as you near the end of the story you know that their existence will end with the last sentence.
