Book Hoarder

It all began when I was in high school. A good friend of mine growing up got anything she wanted; books, electronics, clothes. But the main thing she wanted and always received were books. She could care less for clothes, electronics, social media.... all that she wanted were books.

She had four whole shelves full of some of the newest releases that made significant impressions on girls our age, and she would allow the occasional book to be borrowed out.

Now, growing up for some odd reason I knew I wanted my own library, but I hadn’t the faintest idea how to go about achieving it. I was always jealous of my friend for the books she had and always aspired to own just as many if not more than her. It was a goal of mine, set in what I suppose could be considered a slightly twisted mind. Jealousy ruled my thoughts and I was it’s servant.

For the longest time I loved to read. Reading brought so much joy to my life and allowed me to go places that could only be seen in my dreams. The characters, the adventures, all the triumphs and chaos brought me such euphoria that I would spend days daydreaming about a book I would be reading.

My friend and I eventually lost touch due to differences in our future plans, but I still remember the feeling I would get when we would speak enthusiastically about a book we were both reading. They were some of my favorite moments and truly fed my desire to have my own personal library.

It was not until after I graduated college that my dream could finally see some fruition. I bought, bought, bought until I could not buy anymore. I wanted complete series, classics, books that allowed those wonderful feelings of nostalgia to overwhelm me, and anything that held my interest for long periods of time and made my mind imagine all these different scenes of my favorite books that turned into some of the most beautiful moments I had ever experienced.

I gained so many books and would tightly hold them to my chest as a way of worship. The knowledge, the experience, and my imagination grew the more I read books and the more words I had surrounding me the happier I was as a person.

I have always enjoyed reading and my dream was to have a library. I have many books in my collection and plan to add more, but for now I am at a standstill. For now I am reading what I have. For now I await the day I can devote an entire room to books and sit in the middle of the room staring at them with gleeful silence.

I am a book hoarder. I acknowledge this fact about myself and I accept it. I enjoy books. Whether it be reading them, smelling them, or looking at them. Books are amazing and hold so much in them despite their size.

My room, albeit average-sized, holds much knowledge within its grasp and I partake quite often. Reading is not just a hobby; it is a lifestyle. Once you develop the craving, you never lose it. You might quit reading for a while due to work or unforeseen circumstances, but you continue to hold the love for reading no matter what occurs in life.

Maintaining my library as I do gives me much joy and responsibility; my books, perfectly arranged, give me great happiness. I am blessed to say I have achieved what I have always wanted to do; own a library.

One day, maybe when I am a bit older, I will own a bookstore and be able to help many of the future readers of today’s age with recommendations. There is so much to read, so much to learn, and there are hardly enough hours in a day to fully complete a book, but I shall persevere and keep a tight grasp on what it is I love to enjoy; reading.