I must confess something.

It sounds strange and I feel reluctant to say it, but as much as I love books, I also hate them. Okay hold on a sec, before you gasp and burn me for heresy, let me explain myself:

Books are an undividable part of me, but at the same time, they make real life seem so…awful. When I read, my heart beats faster when characters are running from an invincible foe, my stomach drops to my toes when a plan goes undeniably south, my blood rushes to my face when those stupid doofuses of characters do something embarrassing, butterflies fill me when one character sweeps the other off their feet… The stories are pure magic.

But I can´t help but feel disappointed when real life isn´t the same. A righteous stranger with eyes of fire will not whisk me away into a heart-pumping adventure, I will not stumble into the middle of a group of teenagers with powers from beyond this universe, and a strange ability will not wake inside me on my eighteenth birthday. Life will remain normal, peppered with its ups and downs but lacking the wonder and awe that comes with books.

“Wake up, Alina!” some of you will probably yell at me, “None of that is real!”

And I know that. But it doesn´t take away from the fact that sometimes I feel like the incredibleness of books takes away from the incredibleness of life. Here I am, seventeen and not a dancing queen, already in my last year of Hogwarts and I feel like I have done nothing with my life. Where are the dragons? The prophecies? The respectable young men with aptitudes for sword fighting? Not here, I tell you.

I keep thinking, “What am I doing? Trying to get into college, and then what?” but I´ve just realized something: This is exactly why I read. This is exactly why I want to become a writer.

Books and stories are incredible and amazing for a reason. Writers aspire to bring magic and wonder to the lives of people with words. With nothing more than twenty six digits and a whole lot of dots and symbols, the people who write imbed feelings and thoughts into paper. It´s an inspiring feat.

So, yeah, so far I haven´t met a lot of teenage boys with supernaturally green eyes, or girls with strangely translucent skin, but that´s a really easy thing to fix. I can just open a book. Or write that story myself. It´s kinda awesome, really.

We have the entire universe at our fingertips.

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