I wasn't the most open during my University years. I still hadn't win the battle with myself. My past was still winning over me. So I would hide behind the smile, the sarcastic comments and the laughs. I wouldn't talk much about myself. Or let anyone know myself at all. But there were two people. Two people. Around them I would let myself be my self. That's what I miss the most. The crazy non-sense talks. The discussions about anything. The fun in the work. The feeling of non-judgment I would get from being with them. The simple fact that I would allow myself to be. I could be. I could breathe. Friends. I didn't get to make much friends on University. But those two. Those two I call them friends. They are my friends. I cannot wait for Summer to be here so we three can be together once again.
There is something about books. There is something about the stories they tell. The lives they share. The worlds they breathe. They are beautiful places where unbelievable things are allowed to happen. Places that somehow feel magical. A refugee from this crazy thing we all call life. A place that involves us so deep into its words, into the stories it tells, into the lives it shares. And for a moment all that surrounds us is forgotten. And all that matters is the lives shared through out the story it is being told to us. They are the light.