It's a thing, I have it. I call it Book Sympathy, but it could also be called book empathy. It's caused by book cruelty and thoughtlessness.
This is a story about a book. A good book; a beautiful book, with creased edges and a smooth shiny cover. This book was bought along with four others in a custom fit box that sat on a shelf. All of these books were read, enjoyed, lived in, and carefully put back on the shelf for future enjoyment. The future came and a girl came to read these books. She was an inexperienced little girl who didn't suffer from book sympathy and didn't understand the joy and suffering books could contain. She made her way through these books casually and sporadically until she reached that book. This book left the shelf and saw many places the other books didn't see (ex: The car, the pool) and touched substances the other books didn't touch (ex: ??watercolor paint maybe??) and it's spine stretched in scary ways. When I found it, my heart died like so many trees that fall under the blows of a woodsman. This book was cried over and returned safely to the box on the shelf with its friends. The cover is torn, the pages are folded and ripped in places.
My heart bleeds bleeds bleeds and cries for those who suffer from book sympathy and for those who cause it. So far there is no cure for Book Sympathy, but the only victim is myself. Don't scar the books and don't let them suffer alone.
