It took away my passion.

Before high school I loved to read. I devoured books over and over, stayed up reading with a flashlight when I needed to know what happened next chapter, cherished every book and refused to crack their spines.

Now I can’t remember the last time I read a real book. In English class they would assign us Great Gatsby and Frankenstein and Heart of Darkness and Grapes of Wrath and I couldn’t bring myself to read a single one. Too many things to do, not enough time. Reading became a burden, not an escape.

So I just stopped. I stopped reading every second I had free time. I stopped picking up books in the bookstore. I gave away half my collection. I keep saying “I’ll get back into it soon” but it’s been years.