Sometimes I hate being a reader.

I feel home in non-existing worlds, live in castles, fight in battles, cry for lost heroes.

And every time I open my eyes to the real world, I feel alone.

It's not the kind of loneliness that you feel on your silent way home after spending a long day with your friends.

No, it's the cold kind. The hurting and breathtaking kind, that tears your heart apart, because it's longing for something it will never have.

The moment when you realize that it's all in your head is the worst.

All the friendships, all the adventures, all the love - they were only stories made up by another dreamer just like yourself.