Letting Go · 8:25am Dec 22nd, 2014

Lately I've had trouble picking up a book and settling into it, or picking up a story, or reviewing stories like I used to, and for the longest time I couldn't figure out why. It's not that I don't love reading. I do. It's an incredible escape, and it can take you on grand adventures to far off worlds, all from the comfort of your own home. It's literally a fantasy, but I don't need to spend 500 words explaining to you why reading is so popular. The point is, I can't figure out what's so difficult about it. Once involved in a book, the world melts away, and I sometimes forget that I'm sitting on my couch, or my favorite chair, or that there's a cat curled up purring in my lap, or that there's a cup of black cherry tea growing colder by the minute on the side table next to me.

I think that the reason why it's so great is the same reason why I can't pick it up anymore. Reading takes you somewhere else. It almost literally takes you to a completely different world, where your problems don't exist, and wonderful people go on grand adventures, and you leave your entire existence behind. And I think that's the problem. Reading used to be a fun, relaxing experience for me, where I'd recharge from spending so much social energy. But now that life has gotten so crazy, I'm spending most of my energy not socializing so I can focus on my plan for the future.

What that has to do with reading is the fear of letting go. I'm fighting so hard to control my current situation, that I'm afraid if I let go of it I'm going to lose any stability I had. My mind can't seem to comprehend that I'm not actually leaving this world, and that things will actually be pretty much the same when I return. Every time I pick up a book, and stare through the portal of that brave new world, Iinger on the threshold, afraid to step through the portal and into another realm, because I'm clinging too tightly to this one. I read the first few lines, and recoil in terror at the thought of letting go, and trusting fate to catch me.

Maybe that's why I can't seem to write anything anymore either. I don't want to spend a single minute outside of this world, because somewhere deep down I know I'll have to return eventually, and what will things look like when I do. Reading and Writing should be an escape. But for me it's a matter of trust, that I'm not letting life pass me by as I float through a wonderland of my fantastical daydreams. If I'm to ever join you all again, I'm going to have to learn to trust myself a little more.

Goodbye for now.