I never said I loved you

 “Advice is like being handed a large amount of foreign currency. What do you do with it? The number of times people have asked about my health problems then told me maybe I should try swimming, weights, lacrosse, a jog? A light jog? As if mental well-being were a bus I could still catch, if I left now.” Rhik Sammader

It’s been ten years since I read a book....correction...completed a book. But I didn’t just finish this one...more like devoured it and then ear marked my favourite parts to revisit, again and again and again. I don’t remember a time since childhood when I was without the company of a book. When I was too young for an allowance, I would negotiate with my parents...books for toys and clothes. Later, when the monthly allowance couldn’t afford my addiction, I resorted to compiling mix tapes on my cool double cassette player and earn an extra buck. I was always trading books like a cheap drug dealer. I read so much I thought I would lose my eyes some day. I packed a brand new novel as part of my hospital essentials suitcase for the birth of my older one, as if I was going on a leisure trip to the beach. The second  time I was headed for another delivery, I didn’t even bother. I hadn’t even come close to a book in seven years and I knew it would be a long time before I got a chance. I’m being dramatic and blaming the kids but you know how life gets in the thirties, kids, work, home and whole lot of other boring stuff. I did pick up a book many times but would return to it after so long that I would keep starting over and would eventually lose interest.

So when I picked up this one, I didn’t have much faith in this book or my commitment but a few pages in and it just reeled me in like a bee to an exotic nectar. As my kids did the endless rounds of slides and swings in the playground screaming for my attention, I was already in a galaxy far far away...this one sounded like something I would write! (I know tall claim for someone who is struggling to commit to a blog!) But it did sound like a storyline and expression that sounded familiar. Humorous, painfully honest, deep and real. I loved the letters he wrote to people for all the things he didn’t get to say and that it didn’t have the kind of ending you would expect, it begs for a sequel. I dug around the internet like a desperate treasure seeker to find out more of what happens ‘after’, did he conquer his demons, did the book save him? I found nothing...turns out he hasn’t even written another book or done anything else to keep the fans connected. Seemed like a mysterious magical act, beautiful to witness and leaves you with wanting more.

And now we have a problem, the suppressed appetite for my oldest love is back and I’m not sure if the next book I pick up will satisfy the craving. Like the taste of the best goddamn dessert in your mouth and you don’t want a bite of anything else, lest you lose or forget this.