When I was younger, I dreamt of having my own library probably because I grew up with a love of reading. Most kids get scolded for prioritizing fun and play before doing assignments from school. In my case, I get scolded because I cannot drop the book I'm reading. In grade school, it was Sweet Valley Twins and the Nancy Drew series. Trending since my first year in high school was Harry Potter. In the university, however, were nursing books.
Because I was too busy earning a college degree, I forgot all about my love of reading. I was no longer as thirsty for new short stories or novels to read because I did not have the luxury of time anymore. But when I finished all what has to be done in preparation for practicing my profession, I slowly regained my first love.
I no longer have the book collection from my youth aside from a few literature compositions of Filipino writers. Most of my books now are from serious Coelho, romantic Sparks and touching Albom. Adding to it is a collection of magazines as well; Reader's Digest, Cosmopolitan, Cosmo Philippines, Glamour, National Geographic (from my daddy), et cetera.
Just so suddenly, I decided to sell my books. I've sold them all except for a few meaningful ones. It surprised me that giving my books away would make me saddened. I recognized the slight tinge of pain as similar to the loneliness I felt for losing a loved one. It was then that I understood it all, my love of reading, I got from my father.
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