I absolutely adore the smell and texture of a second hand book. I am awed by the very fact that someone else has touched the exact same places on a page that I have. I am mystified that someone else in the world has shared the exact same, perfect fantasy that I have whilst diving into the depths of a novel. I never fail to become emotionally attached to at least one character in a book. I wish that my life were a story sometimes… scripted, thought out, planned… Then I realise that, that is not what life is about. Life is supposed to be spontaneous and an adventure, and no matter how beautiful it is to read a perfect story… It can never be as inspiring as creating your own life day-by-day.
I know that I have many flaws and imperfections and that my actions are un-called for and horrendous sometimes. But then I realise that I would not be sitting here, where I am right now if I had not done everything in my life that I have. Maybe if I had done things differently, then yes, I could be sitting somewhere else that is far better or I could be somewhere else far worse. But right now, I am happy. I have my health, I have a roof over my head and some cash flow. There is nothing particularly bad about my life right now, except the problems that I create in my head.
One of these days, someone is going to completely whisk me off my feet and fall in love with every imperfection and flaw that I have, perhaps even love me FOR them. We'll see. It could be you, it could be anyone. I wish I could look into the future and see just a glimpse of where I am in thirty or so years. But I guess that is the whole point of surprises… Right?