As I spent the day by myself, changed our double bed, and ran my self a bath. I opened up my book for the first time that day and began reading. It was on a chapter I like to call inviting someone into your life. As I read about the first time this man entered this wonderful human ladies apartment and analysed bits of the room to match with her personality. I read about her opening up and inviting him into her life.

As I read this chapter and delved more into these fictional characters lives, I suddenly began to realise I was craving this notion; that notion of inviting someone into your space and into your stories. As I will never(hopefully) know what it feels like to invite someone into MY space, rather than creating a space together.

We always aspire to find a romance or love like in movies, and then turn to more realistic expectations in books. However I feel like we do constantly read about characters meeting and combing there long lived lonely lives into one. Yet in society there’s also a longing for firsts, first times, first kiss, first place, first holiday. Its always more romanticised as first with couples around you in real life. However for those that prefer the book worlds were reading the opposite.

I just found this notion odd, amusing, and scary. As I was sat there analysing my life and how most of my adventures and life experiences and personality traits will always involve this other person, I never got to officially invite him into my space; we created one together.
I do like this thought; but on this particular day, I just longed to be like a character in my book.