I stumbled across a random post on Instagram today: “Name one feeling that you miss the most right now?”
The question made me stop and think. You hear often of missing something or someone, but missing a feeling… now that’s different. The answer came to me after a few moments of retrospection though.
I miss the feeling of being absorbed in a book, of travelling to another land while sitting curled up on my favourite spot on the bed with a cup of coffee by my side, of being so engrossed in the pages of a novel that everything else fades out of my mind.
Reading and books have always been, and will always be, my life source (besides coffee 😉 ). Yet, I realised, owing to the daily routine I’ve found myself wound up in, I haven’t been able to make much time to do so.
Even if I do manage to squeeze in 10-15 minutes of reading before heading to sleep everyday, the feeling is not one that I described a mere sentences prior – my mind is not carefree, I don’t find myself travelling, and I fail to be entirely captivated by the words in front of me.
The difference that it makes to my being may be unnoticeable to others, but not to me. I realise I’m more easily upset, definitely more emotional, a lot less relaxed, and a lot less affectionate on a usual basis. My sister could probably vouch for this behaviour.
The only reason for it? I’m a book-a-holic experiencing withdrawal symptoms.
So, I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to rectify this is to make my peace of mind a priority above work and routine, and return to my beloved books. After all, I’d much rather be a happy book-a-holic than an irritable addict in involuntary recovery 😛