It is near three a.m. and I am still awake. Tomorrow, or rather today, is going to be hell to deal with.

But I am awake, and I may or may not write a proper post for today, but I have to get some things out lest I become overly-morose in my private contemplation. You think I write for the fun of it? This is the greatest tool for combating my depression that I have. This and the other blogs that I have. Find them if you dare.

I just finished a book, The Night Circus, and it has put me into a bit of a funk. I’m done with the story and I wasn’t ready for it to end. It didn’t end the way I would have liked. It resolves itself, but it’s still a little too open, and you know there are more stories in that world to be told, but that’s not what has me down. Like any good story, when the book ends, it leaves you with a sense that the story continues, even if you are not privy to it. Maybe, should the author decide to do so, you may be invited to go along on another adventure. I rather she would, but I’m not betting on it.

I don’t want to try to tell you what the story is about. Read it yourself. I’m not going to give a condensed version, or even a review. If you want my opinion, I will tell you that I loved the book and that I’ll read it again and again. It moved me, as all good books seem to do. For me, that’s enough. My personal criteria has been met.

There is no greater gift than to be moved to tears and no better catalyst than a good book. To be moved to joy and to sadness, to laughter and to weeping, crying tears both joyful and mournful, is what I love in a book. I want to be transported out of my life, to journey with the heroes, to suffer and celebrate with them. I want to experience their highs and lows. I want to forget myself and delve into the illusion that I am no longer me, but in the story itself.

That’s where I am. I felt for those characters. They became my friends, even if for only a little while. With all the bad in the world you want to read that maybe someone got to live their happily ever after. Call it wish fulfillment if you want, since I guess that’s what it is.

Maybe I’m just overly emotional because it’s now fifteen after three and I’m tired and I have less control of them when I’m worn out. Of course there’s the fact that I am an emotional person, but I doubt you knew that.

Related articles

• Review of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (kaitlinmichelle.com)
• The Night Circus (sebastianfoulger.wordpress.com)