This isn’t your typical blog.
None of them are.
They’re all about sappy feelings, exciting explosions and random or weird shit. Sometimes all in one. But mainly about what I’m feeling and then asking if anyone simply feels the same.
During the time off I take from school (AKA Summer or the time in between the end of fall and the beginning of Spring) I like to read books. I have a kindle and I’d say I have over 30 books. Lately, I’ve become lazy and chosen ‘The Office” over anything. And I get it, I’m tired as it is and I like to unwind in bed after showering enjoying a nice laugh next to my husband. I feel like I rediscovered myself about two years ago when I decided to buy a kindle. It was one of the best decisions of my life.
I noticed that the majority of the books I had purchased and downloaded were about love or finding love. A good 20 percent were about murder and suspense. That’s irrelevant and a bit concerning…well kind of.
Perhaps at that time I felt like I needed to read about love and to fully understand it. Or by reading it I felt it deep inside of me where I was lacking it. I would sometimes read at work and I’d get home in the most cheerful mood almost comparing myself and my feelings to the character I just read about.
The murder books just made me paranoid and extra thoughtful of every scenario the character must have gone through if the book was even non-fiction.
But back to the love books. I almost felt as if I was releasing something in me. I’m very reserved and I keep my feelings in the majority of the time. I hate asking for help and I don’t like to look vulnerable in any situation. In my outer shell I sometimes come off as a bitch or as brave but my core is just a scared and dumb mouse.
Of course, reading can help anyone escape for just a little while. It helps learn new vocabulary and I love to picture exactly what I’m reading in my head.
Sometimes the main character goes through tests, trials and tribulations and I put myself in her (always a ‘her’) shoes. I can’t help but letting it take over me too as if what is happing to her in the story is happening to me in real life.
Perhaps I should stop reading. Either ways I shouldn’t depend on romance novels to keep me happy.
It just doesn’t happen when reading, but with movies as well. In the last three months I watched a good amount of “chick flicks” featured in Netflix. One was about a woman who broke off her relationship with her boyfriend of ten years and I cried. I cried in the beginning, the middle and the end. It almost made me feel as if I had done the same but with my husband. I felt hurt and sad for the main character. There was also another movie but on a slighter happy side. Every time I watch it it makes me feel so good and it makes me feel and think of the times I barely started to date my husband.
It scares me sometimes to feel this way when reading or watching movies but I can’t help myself. It overtakes me and suddenly I’m not me any more.
Do you feel the same way when you’re reading or watching movies?