When You Are Who You Read

Isn't it funny how a certain book or movie can make you feel so alone? The most inspiring films, or the most moving pieces of literature, can actually immobilize you. They can strike you with such sheer emotion, the part of you that knows you should feel happiness and rejoice, instead inverts. You are most raw in these moments, most human. Your heart of hearts breaks, but not because of any sad ending. The characters whom you've developed a relationship with, well, they're gone. Their tales are over, but you're not ready for the ride to end. They're not fake, they're very much real. You wish you could jump on board with them and continue with their journey beyond the pages, go into uncharted waters, help them with their struggles, revel in their happiness, anything but returning to real life, where you're stuck to face your own trifles, your own vulnerabilities, your own mortality. When a story's over, maybe you walk around in the rain or the snow, pretending you're on some great excursion as the elements wash over the hills. Maybe you immediately delve into another story to negate that loss. How do you cope with the sense of abandonment?

The End

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