I love to read, and today was no exception. I found a book I hadn't read in a long time and sat down to enjoy some quality reading time. Only, the story was different than I remembered.
The main character of the story was really starting to annoy me.
She was shallow, inconsiderate and dense. She made stupid decisions based on nothing. She hurt people without realizing it. She was a complete jerk. All unbeknownst to her.
I was screaming inside! "Are you really that stupid?! How can you NOT realize what you're doing!!" I wanted to pull her out of the pages of the book and give her a serious talking to about the reality of her situation, to turn back time and undo all the things she did that were driving me insane!
I had to put the book down. It was torture to read it.
I started thinking... how often do we do things and make decisions without realizing the impact it has on others? This girl, this silly teenager with a head full of dreams and plans, was so clueless (yet in tune) with what was going on around her! At least, she was aware enough to record these things in her journal - yet still remain removed from the truth of it all. How? How can that be?
As the girl grew older and more mature, the memory of these things was much more rose-colored. And then, as an adult, she wanted to read the pages of her journal once again - to read about what she remembered as fun times and funny stories... only to discover the truth of who she really was.
I prefer my story the way I remember it, not the way I recorded it.
We're supposed to write in our journals, right? And keep them for our kids to read someday?
It's a good thing we don't have a fire pit in our backyard or this notebook would be ashes by now.