i read, therefore, i write

I married a man who loves books as much as I love, say, heavy machinery.

Fortunately for me, the fact that he doesn't enjoy reading does not really matter. His lack of interest in one of my greatest passion, is hardly as challenging as being in a relationship where you're a vegetarian while your partner could name all the body parts of a cow, and after that, eat them. After all, reading is largely a solitary act. Yes, you can talk about books, share its ideas and discuss its themes with others. But if you're like me, the act of reading is to completely lose yourself in a different life, and a different world. For a few short moments, your life, your troubles and worries cease to exist as you become a voyeur into someone else's thoughts and emotions.

Unfortunately for him, he married someone whose primary occupation is to write. My life is largely about words, and my love for words. Books to me are not so much a luxury, as it is a necessity. I wouldn't know where I would be today if I had not been accompanied by the words, adventures, travels, and lives of so many others. From Enid Blyton's magical rain-forests, talking dolls, and secret adventures when I was a little girl, to the witty likes of Bill Bryson and John Grogan, to the inspiration of Tiziano Terzani and Elizabeth Gilbert, books have allowed me to travel, experience, and learn about things I otherwise would never encounter - discovering the world beyond my four walls simply by flipping a page.

And that is largely what I aspire to do with my own book - as I pass through this phase of melancholy, having just recently decided not to go on writing the book I was working on for the past two months, due to its very personal nature. The thing is, I want to make a difference with my words, the way so many have made such a difference in my life. I want to be honest, smart, funny, insightful, and most of all, inspirational when I write. I want people to read my words and identify with them. To be able to, albeit only for a moment, feel a little less alone, and a little more fulfilled. But all that is so much easier said than done. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've wrote, and re-wrote the same sentence, in the past few weeks, only to press the delete button as I watch it all disappear into a cyber-void.

My not-so-book-loving husband has promised to at least read my book when I'm done. Considering that I've yet to see him completely read a whole book in the whole time I've known him, the day it happens will be a day of two miracles - that I finish writing my book, and that he finishes reading one.