Letters, Open Letters

I’m a reader.

You say I have high standards, I feel I have quite simple ones. I’m a reader, I can’t be contented with a single trait. You can’t win over me with a beautiful smile, or a smart face. You need to be more than that.

I’m a reader. I can’t be pleased with materialistic things. I love simple things like the moonlight, the stars, the smell of pages, and the rainbow.

I’m a reader. I don’t fancy lavish dates. On the contrary, reading by the fireplace, sitting under the stars, fills me with ecstasy.

I’m a reader. I can read people pretty easily. You can’t fool me into oblivion. I can see right through your soul without your consent.

I’m a reader. I don’t get over people or books easily. Endings haunt me.

But I’m a reader. And I know, endings are inevitable. And that everything happens for a reason.

So, can you be my batman, and I’ll be your Gotham?

Can you be my Chandler, and I’ll be your Monica?

Can you be my Ron, and I’ll be your Hermione?

Can you be my Edward, and I’ll be your Bella?

Can you be my Darcy, and I’ll be your Lizzie?

Can you be Augustus, and I’ll be your Hazel?

Can you be my Beast, for I’ll be your Belle!

At the end I just wish to be your “after all this time”, for you are my “always.”

I’m a reader. I live in the pages of books. I am too engrossed in stories and characters, to live in the real world. And If I find a home in you, I may come back.

27 thoughts on “I’m a reader.”

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