A/N: For any of you who have read my "Alone", this has nothing to do with it.

I have not gone over this like I Mostly do, I am sorry, this was written in a spar of a moment and cannot be edited.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

This was written in loving memory of my aunt who has left us while still so young.

Books are my burden, books are my blessing

I have always thought in books. Whenever the circumstances were hard, or unhappy, or bad, or if I just generally needed to disconnect, I would start thinking as if I am telling myself a story. I would do it sometimes even for the fun of it.

Books were always my hiding place. Ever since I was bitten and looked for a way to not think of things I read. Even when I was just four.

But reading so much has its good parts and its bad parts.

Sometimes the reading myself to oblivion state I get into is necessary. Sometimes it's a way to run away, and running away is never good.

It made me get into a state that I do this story in the head thing.

I start telling what had happened and using phrases I wouldn't have in my thoughts normally. My friends could always read my face when I did so, but not any other time.

The thing is, that this state is fixed in my mind so much, that I find it hard to grieve.

I have been in this state all through the war days, when so many people died. I would feel it at first but not long afterwards the feeling would just disappeare, and I'd be thinking in stories again. And then, I am not actually grieving, I get into the grieving states of others, of characters I have read. I'd fist my hands so tightly so that my knuckles turn white but not because it is what my body needs right now but what is happening in my story line. I had always ignored this until now. But now I cannot.

Now I want to grieve, I want to cry freely and break down utterly and completely but I just can't bring myself to it. The self defense system I have built over the years is to complicated even for myself to penetrate. Now that all is gone, I want to be truly myself, but I have got so used to being myself only when I was having them besides me, that now they are not here I am not myself, and would never be.

So I read. I know this is wrong. I know it doesn't respect their memories. But there is nothing to it. Otherwise I'd keep it all in, and have nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Books are my blessing, books are my burden.