The World Where I Belong

As I hold the book in my hands, I can't help but reflect on my reluctance to sad stories. It's not just about avoiding pain; it's about holding onto a glimmer of hope that I carry within me.

There's a strange ache in my chest. It's like each tragic twist in the story chips away at a part of me, leaving behind a void that echoes with the characters' struggles. Others may dismiss my attachment to fictional worlds, but to me, they're so much more. Each story is a window into someone's imagination, a glimpse into the human's mind.

Over the years, I've developed a habit of returning to the beginning whenever the plot takes a dark turn. But even as the story draws to a close, I refuse to let go of that laughter, that sense of camaraderie that fills the pages. Because in the end, isn't that what we all long for?

After all, as long as there's laughter in those final moments, I know that hope will always endure.