Hey guys… so I have been reading a lot lately (Colleen Hoover finally finished “Too Late” on wattpad and it has killed me) so I thought I would share my stages of the book hangover! We’ve all been there, knowing you’re meer pages away from finishing one of the greatest journeys of your life… and you can’t stop it. And then it sinks in! Here we go!
- You know the end is in sight, you’re finally going to be free of the grips of this book in your hands, having all of the answers that have plagued you for days now! The relief! The happiness! The (hopefully) happily ever after for the characters that you feel you know better than anyone!
- And there is trying to separate the reality of your life from the fictional world that you have wholeheartedly submerged yourself in. The characters are so real. Playing on a loop over and over.
- And then “oh no.” It’s finished. I actually fucking finished. What. What do I even do with the rest of my life?
- And then the numbness. You just sit there. Contemplating. Thinking. Normally in the fetal position. In a dark room. Still thinking about how you love these characters in the book more than you love most of the people in your life!
- And then the despair. The sickening anxiety that you’ve finished it. That the characters are all moved on, hopefully off living their perfect lives in the book world. And yet here you are, 4 hours later still thinking about them. So you get on instagram and blogs and research the shit out of the book.
- And then the anger. This part normally happens for me if there is a cliff hanger or I need to wait for the next book. The “how dare they end it like that?!” Do these authors have no compassion for their readers?! WHY WOULD THEY LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS. The betrayal cuts deep, my friends.
- And then you start telling everyone about this book. This book that has cut you open. This book that has changed you, and your views and everything you thought you felt before means shit all now. Because this book. It’s a killer.
- And then the inane jealousy. Okay.. so I’ve recommended this book. And my friends are going to read it. And I can never get that feeling again, reading it for the first time. And you know that the heart stopping moments, the pages where you’re sick to your stomach with anxiety, and sweating and crying and laughing so hard. They’re never going to be the same next time you read this book. But the people who you’ve just recommended it to? They will. Damn them. DAMN THEM TO HELL.
- And then more despair and anger. Why did I read so fast? Why didn’t I savour it? Can I get a time machine? Can I scrub the book from my memory? Why can’t Harry Potter be real and magically wipe my memories?! Hot damn. Harry Potter. Another book that I’ll never get to experience for the first time. Why did I let my mind go there?! Why do I do this to myself?! Damn. *back to fetal position I go*
- And then… after the emotional turmoil you see the light at the end of the tunnel… another little gem in your tbr list… and it entices you. With its promises of heartache and romance and laughter and anxiety. And you let yourself get sucked in. And the whole vicious cycle starts again!
In the words of Ronald Weasley “You’re going to suffer… but you’ll be happy about it.”