“Bookworm” is a term that accurately describes me.
Yes, I love going to movies with friends, having fun on the weekends, or watching TV shows at home, but to me there is something so calming and mind-relieving to open a book, tune out the world, and let myself get lost in the story.
Reading is also admittedly nostalgic for me.
As a little boy, my most prized possessions were not my marbles, bicycles, Legos, or pocketknives – my books were my world.
When I grab a book and zone out, I am reminded of my care-free childhood days when I used to do the exact same thing. My tuning-out of the world distressed my mom to no small extent and generally the only way she could pull me back into the real world was by taking my book away.
Those books opened a door into a world I had no idea existed.
I can still remember the first book I read, re-read, and then read again. The title unfortunately I cannot remember, but it was a green hardback book that my dad kept on top of his bookcase. It was a notable achievement to receive permission to touch my dad’s books. I can still remember the excitement of opening that green book, smelling its musty scent, and then forgetting everything around me as I disappeared into the world of words.
After reading that book, I became rather nefarious for reading anything I could get my hands on. I read classical literature, encyclopedias, religious books, history books, and any type of story book – regardless of the author’s intended audience.
When my dad realized how much I loved books, he began taking me to different second-hand stores where we would pore over their book sections early on Saturday mornings. Those little trips were highlights of my life, and I slowly began amassing a wildly varied library.
Even now, I still make random early Saturday morning trips to the downtown antique store where I browse all the scattered book sections. When I’m there, I feel like a child in a candy-store.
It is oddly relaxing but exhilarating.
Right now, I can look at my small book collection of several hundred books and still see books that I bought as a 10 year-old.
The master plan/goal that I am methodically working towards, is to eventually fill an entire room with my books.
I will never have enough books.
I will never be able to read enough.
But every time I pick up a book, I am reminded of my addiction to reading – an addiction for which I will never seek a cure.