I love books. I love reading. But I don’t know why I don’t like showing people my shelves.
Maybe I’m just weird.
A lot of my relatives don’t read. You can’t pick family, right? At least, my best friends read.
I’m all for being surrounded by books. It brings me so much joy to look at my shelves. But I don’t love the prospect of someone else staring at it.
My younger cousin walked into my room one time and proceeded to count how many books I owned. I was curious and mortified at the same time.
Since then, I’ve added many more to my ever-growing collection. It’s grown so much bigger than I expected. So now I’m way too lazy to count all the books I possess.
I’m not embarrassed by my shelves. If anything, I’m quite proud.
My one issue is that I only have one bookcase.
At the rate I’m buying books, I’ll need an entire room to store them all one day. Hopefully, by the time I run out of space, I’ll have the means to move out into my dream house. A girl can dream.
I think you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their bookshelves. I wonder what my collection would say about me.
I love books, but I don’t love showing people the shelves in my room. I’m not the biggest fan of sharing my babies either.
I’m strange. But that’s okay.