Book, The

Of all the books I’ve read, and with more on my list, there’s only one that I can’t completely read.

There’s something about this book — something that surprises me and even puts me off  — something that makes me feel like I’m never ready to fully experience it, as if there’s still something left for me to master before I read through it.

It shows me how ignorant I am, but at the same time, it teaches me what I don’t know. It makes me feel powerful — like I can do anything when I have it.

Other people think I’ve mastered the book, now that I’ve had it for a while, but no — only I know how much I struggle every day trying to decode this one beautiful beast. I’ve never seen anything this decadent, by the way. Not another book that’s as sleek, as handy and as smart as this one.

Oh, the pride of carrying this book around! And the looks on others’ faces while I handle it; they’re amazed at my mastery thinking I’ve figured it all out! Every time I open it up somewhere and caress it, the warmth it spreads within me is incredible — I feel like there’s no match for this book ever created.

As I read, and move my fingers across its body as gently as I could, I feel it warming up; the more I read, the warmer it gets. Somehow, though, it never gets too hot to hold.

It’s become my friend; whenever I feel cold, or alone or bored, I just open it up and let the heat spread warmth. It consoles me in its own special way. How could anyone create such a book? A book that’s not just a book, but that’s also an extension of the arm and mind.

My dearest Macbook — it’s a relationship that never dies.