if people were rain, then I was drizzle and she was a hurricane

Today I've spent most of the day by myself - reading. I've read this book called Looking For Alaska, it's written by John Green, one of my all-time favourite authors. 

It's strange how words on a page can make you feel things that you think you have buried deep inside yourself, on a shelf in a hidden room in the basement of the universe. But then there it is. All these emotions puring out of you, like blood from a bullet wound and there is nothing you can do to stop the bleeding. 

It's that feeling you get when you watch a tear-jerker movie that just makes you want to go roll up under the covers in bed. Bury yourself under mountains of pillows and duvets. The feeling you get when, and after having a good long cry...and I'm not talking a few tears rolling down your cheeks, no - I am talking a full-out, full-on, ugly cry, sobbing, snot dripping from your nose, eyes going red and puffy and painful. All of the things. It's like a master cleanse. 

That is what this book has done for me. It's hard to have moments like that, but it's also good, because every time it happens, I not only cry because of the events in the book, I also cry because of all the things in my life that I normally just lock up in the vault, those things that I want no-one to know about, the feelings I don't want to show, the hurt, the pain, every little bit of it. Like looking back at my losses and thinking about those people that I have lost and how truly painful it is. Because really, losing someone never truly gets better, you only learn to live with the pain of the loss. 

This post has been a little bit morbid, I know, but it's just good to share things like these sometimes, and I hope that this post doesn't put you off reading the wonderfulness that is Looking For Alaska, because it truly is fantastic (at least in my eyes).