Now, I must write about the Coma that follows.
I picked up Twilight in August of last year. I read it, read it again, and pleaded with my husband to buy the next two. Then the fourth book came out, and he was a good sport and bought me that one too.
What he didn’t bargain for was the comatose-like state I was in for the next few weeks. I tried to explain to him, and to anyone else who would listen, about how fascinating it was to crawl into the imaginary world of Twilight, of Forks, Washington, of Italy, of a tiny island called Isle Esme. I tried to explain to Lance how I felt like a teenager again, how I wished I could go back to when just holding his hand gave me goosebumps, how the anticipatory first kiss shot electrical currents. He didn’t get it. The coma was a comfortable cocoon where reality was a far off thing and the imaginary world surrounded me.
I read the series three times in a row. I know what you’re thinking, because I would think it as well. You’re thinking, “Madness! Waste of time! Get a haircut!”
I found understanding in a few friends and coworkers, who loved the books as much as I do. We talked Twilight extensively, passionately. It was like a support group.
Finally, I picked up other books, trying to swim my way out of the world of Stephenie Meyer, and back into reality. Except, reality was just so boring. Reality was bills and work and laundry and mundane life. Reality had no sparkle.
Finally, I was ok. I didn’t feel that pull to Twilight anymore. It became just a pleasant memory.
Then the movie came out on DVD.
The pull- it had me once more. I watched the entire DVD, all special features, both discs. It was an awesome evening. I just ignored Lance’s comments.
Now, I’m back to reading the books again.
Tell me, Twilight readers out there- have you experienced the Coma, too?