What if?

Of ink and magic

As a child I strove for sunlight,
Cartwheels and beauty and happily ever afters
Especially happily ever afters
A few short years later I could only find solace in shadow
Though to be honest, I can't say whether it helped
Anything seemed better then being seen
The spotlight that was the attention of my peers burned and blinded
I hid myself away amidst shadows and dust
As unnoticed as the books I had come to surround myself with
Those books
Every one of them
Became a shelter
A home
The heroes became my friends and family
More than they or the authors would ever come to know
We shared hopes and dreams and fears and losses
Triumphant victories and earth shattering defeats
The stories would unfold and I would become a part of it
A piece of me in every little drop of ink

And then the story would end
The book would close
Being a fast reader has always been a horrible curse, in that respect
For I had grown with my friends but at a point
They always ceased to grow with me
They were gone, their story told
But I was still here
Alone again

Since the days of my shaded existence I've grown to stand in the light again
I'm no longer alone when away from the pages that built my sanctuary
But even so
Turning the last page, that satisfaction is met with a gut wrenching pause
I come back to my world and everything is moving, growing, living
And I am standing still
Alone again

Life moves so fast, it becomes a challenge to get back up to speed
Living in two worlds at once is so beautiful
We forget the toll it takes until those words
The end
Have us in mourning

Then we do the strangest of things
We pick up another book
Make a new home
New friends
Swallow ourselves into new eternities

The magic of stories
They are magic and love and hope and fear and hatred and sadness and anger and joy and victory
And that numbness as the book snaps shut
And is gently placed somewhere safe
That's the price we pay to feel

And it is always worth it