finishing a book

as much as i love books,
they leave me feeling hollow inside.

they allow me to escape to another place, another reality,
and i get so absorbed that i forget my own troubles.
it's only when i lift my head up, that i am snapped back in to reality.

it's a strange sensation, being sucked out of the middle of a book.
like one of those dreams where you wake up from falling.
it's as if i've been toppled upside down,
and then dragged headfirst out of a whirlpool of water that is sucking me in towards the pages.
it's a shock, a jerk movement, whiplash.

but that's okay, because i know that i can sink comfortably back into the water without noticing.
when you're in the middle of a book, or a series, it's easy to do.
i remember when the new Harry Potter books were coming out. It was so easy to wait, because i knew more was coming.

finishing a book, or rather, a series, is a whole different story.

the characters, the ones you've known and loved throughout the whole series, suddenly disappear.
actually, worse. they continue on without me.
and i am left behind.
it's just not the same, going back to the start,
because it's been so long and exhausting, that both the characters, and myself, have changed throughout the books.
and so, i've just been on this whole journey with you, and now you're leaving me?
i've gotten so immersed in your magical story life,
lived vicariously through you.. loved, hated, cried and laughed with you,
felt you.
and now you're moving on.
sure, i have to accept that...
but its painful.
no, not even painful...

it leaves me hollow.
empty.

and i want to go back to the start, repeat the journey again,
but i know what's coming for me, as it's still aching in my heart.
only when in feel alive again, will i read again,
forgetting, until the time comes, this raw feeling that comes with finishing a book.