Void.

Always the same feeling. The same need. The calling. The hunger for more. And then? Just... sadness.

I love literature but I also hate it. I hate it because of what literature is doing to me.I love the feeling when I'm sinking into a book, feel the way the characters feel, somehow connectng with them. Experiencing the same adventures. But when I'm finished... i feel this void inside. Void caused by the same book that i was in deep connection with for past couple of days. Doesn't matter whether I was a master of a sword on a quest to save my foster daughter or fighting hordes of enemies, teenage wizard solving mysteries or a journalist trying to figure out who the murderer is. At the end of every book I'm just laying on the bed and trying to figure out what to do next. How to get on with my life when this great adventure has ended?