No human in this world could be as fascinating and stunning, as perfect and lovely, wonderful and worthy as the world created by the great power of imagination and words. I have a hard time falling in love because I feel like my idea of love is too naïve and phantastic. I couldn't bear it to lose this image of love to the disappointing world of reality. I would rather live without it, still not lonely because of the books I read and the love those pretty real characters feel. So don't judge me for being a dreamer and an observer. Don't judge me for being alone and smiling into the pages. Those pages will always be the one thing keeping me sane when everything goes down and I can't outrun the chaos and the destruction my mind causes.
I appreciate your effort to keep me down to the earth, wanting me to be a realist. And I am. I really am. But I am also a reader. And that's why I will never be able to be a true realist. That's why I will never be able to forget the love and the courage and the grief. The wonders of the world and nature. Humans and phantastic creatures. I believe in the special things and I believe in the power of the mind.
Never underestimate me. Do not think, not for one moment, that I am innocent and that I will spare you because my heart will ache and it will kill me. That it will keep me dead in a body alive.