I love reading books, escaping into unknown worlds and losing myself in them. I get to meet new people--sometimes even taking a fancy to one character more than the rest, wishing more than anything they were real. But reading in such a way does not always do me good. I will travel an illusion of the most tragic and beautiful love story and will love every minute of it, but what am I to do when the adventure is over, and I have naught left but my own company and a few hundred printed pages?