When I finish reading a book, the accomplishment weighs heavy in my mind. The book itself, I hold tightly between my hands and run my fingers over the cover. I smile to myself at the end of a story that will linger in my mind for minutes, hours, even days. It will revisit me later in a dream, a conversation, a memory that existed only on the pages. I want to open up the world and revisit it, I think of others who may have read it so that I can discuss it with them, bring it back to life for a moment. Sometimes there is a great loss at finishing a novel. I feel empty and sad that I have to say goodbye to the characters inside. Sometimes I can’t read to the end quick enough because I want to find out what happens and I find my eyes skimming quickly through, then I slow down, back track and read slowly. I get excited and sad at the same time.
I just finished reading Everything is Illuminated. [and here I tried to underline the title, but due to the lack of backslash on the German keyboard, it will have to wait…] Ali reads it next. And I can’t wait to discuss it with him once he has finished it. There were moments I felt I would burst in holding back a funny anecdote in the story, one I wanted to share. But I bit my tongue, sealed my lips and praises of the book just oozed from my mouth, keeping back the secrets held within the pages I had already embraced. I laughed out loud at moments, at other moments I let the tears gather in the corners of my eyes. I loved this novel.
Damn, I miss being an English Major in University. There are so many moments I would rather be discussing literature than reminding six year olds how to make good choices. Oh, but the importance of teaching the leaders of the future. Yes, just keep reminding yourself Kara.