You open a book and read the first few lines to realize you had already read the book awhile ago. You had read it when you'd just become more interested in reading books. Somewhere along the line, you had forgotten the title but you know the gists and how the story ends. You have this perfect image of the book because you liked it when you were younger. You contemplate whether to reread the book. You know you have these positive memories about the book so you fear that if you were to read it now, the fantasy of perfection created in your mind will be broken. The flaws within the book will be easily more noticed because with the time you had away from the book you gained more knowledge from encounters with other books and have higher standards now. And although you remember that the faulty memory of the mind plays tricks on the mind and fills in spaces you had forgotten to further confuse its’ downsides you want to believe that the book really was that good and so you decide to pick up the book again. You decide to trust the author. You challenge yourself to find good tidbits you had missed when you were younger. You prepare yourself for all outcomes. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be surprised. I just hope that, whatever the outcome, you understand that you are who you are today because of that book. So no matter how many mistakes you find in it by rereading it years later, I hope that book keeps a special spot in your heart.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.