I have a problem.  When I am surrounded by books, especially new-to-me books of the fiction variety, I soon begin to feel as if I have no need for actual people.  I get so immersed in literature that I start forgetting what is real.  I remember when I read My Sister’s Keeper for the first time.  I actually got angry and started talking about how it wasn’t ethical, until my friend asked me if I knew it was just a book…  I assured her I did, but that was merely a cover for the foray into my imagination.

Anyway.  What with my belief that books are friends (and that while I am reading, I forget the characters aren’t real), I stop needing outside interactions.  It can take me a very long time to get tired of only reading and to wish for a human presence.  Literature makes my introversion come out in full force.  And books provide a way in which I feel as if I am getting human interactions while never having a drop of energy taken from me in the exchange.

You can see the dilemma.  It’s not a problem when I’m reading too much non-fiction to be interested in reading fiction.  Then I crave my real-life friends.  But the rest of the time?  You might as well give me up as a lost cause.

I’ll emerge eventually.  Have patience.

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