— You'll spend your whole life alone if you keep living inside your books and never stick your nose out. Shut up and let me show you a world you've never even imagined. — Her words sounded like a challenge, a call to action.
I wanted to snap back, but I realized she was right. That realization hit me hard. I'd always thought my world was enough — the silence, the books, the cozy, secluded corner where no one expected anything in return. My mind was full of stories where heroes went on adventures, made choices, changed fates. And I was just an observer, hiding from reality.
I often convinced myself it was better that way. Why bother with this chaotic world when you could just read, reflect, and stay safe inside your mind?
But now I started to doubt. Why was I so afraid? Why was I rejecting everything that could be real, alive? Had books become not just a refuge but a prison I couldn't escape?
It was my way of avoiding people, their emotions, the complications I didn't know how to deal with. In books, everything was simpler — no misunderstandings, no painful feelings or hard conversations that could shake me.
But her words cut through that world and dragged me out. Her gaze was direct, confident, and free of judgment — only truth. Maybe too sharp, but truth always is.
I realized I'd been hiding behind books for too long. I'd avoided life, afraid of what I couldn't control. But maybe that was the answer — not control, but learning to live without it. To live in the moment, to feel, to experience — that's what I'd missed.
That moment became a turning point. I realized my life wasn't limited to the pages of books. I couldn't just be a bystander in my own story. I'm the main character, and if I stand aside, I'll remain nothing more than a spectator.
I knew she wouldn't leave me alone if I didn't do what she wanted. I was annoyed. I didn't want those clothes, didn't want to be part of her world. I didn't want her to change me. I just wanted to be myself, to stay the way I was before her.
But it was pointless. Her words were already echoing in my ears, and there was nothing I could do about it.