Pride & Prejudice
I realize how silly this may seem as it is almost 2am as I begin writing this. Or better yet, it will become silly soon enough. I have not yet gone to sleep as I have been curled up in my bed reading since 10pm and have just concluded. Not because I wanted to but because I felt that I should stop reading as continuing on would be irresponsible considering my alarm would be going off at 6:30am for work. I'd like to think that I am not as naive as I was in my recent youth. However, in reading Pride & Prejudice I have not been able to avoid being caught up in a bundle of feelings last felt in my youth. I remember when my favorite thing to do was to read. And as I inhaled 12 chapters of the book just in the past three and a half hours it pained me to actually put it down three chapters shy of its conclusion. However, during that time I was reminded of what I had always thought and hoped love would feel like. As I read the book I was youthfully happy about love. I was, in those moments, so in love, it was ridiculous. In those blissful moments I felt every bit as if I truly were discovering love for the first time, as if it was actually happening to me. It was not just exhaustion that pulled me away from the text. After being caught up in the book and its characters I was reminded also of my misfortune in love. I have loved, I truly have, but I have never been the recipient of the kind of love I have always hoped for. And what makes things worse is that I am still in love, and with a person who neither deserves or wants my love. Typical, I know. However, as I laid in bed trying to go to sleep I couldn't help but to jump onto the computer and comment on it. Love is truly a wonderful thing and maybe in my life I will someday know what it's like to be so loved by someone else. And if not, at least there are plenty of well-written books that will remind me that it does actually exist.