Me?

I am a paper-o-phile. I don't know the correct term for this affliction. Maybe I should google it. According to alphadictionary.com, the correct term is papyrophilia. Yes, I do suffer from an obsessive love of paper. Sometimes it's not so painful, like when the paper I love is free (e.g., an ad I really like in the Red and Black). Other times, it's more burdensome, like when the paper product I love costs half a week's pay (e.g., this gorgeous copy of Jane Eyre). No matter the cost, though, I just love paper in all its many forms. I love the way paper can be used in so many different ways. It can tell stories. Show us art. Remind us of important activities. Hold our secrets. Provide diversion. Carry our hearts over many miles. It's so versatile. My favourite type of paper may be the blank kind, bound up in a journal or sitting in my printer. I love the potential energy that blank paper holds. So many promises! Nothing's written. Who knows what will be though. It could be something mundane, like a list of groceries or a short essay for class. But it could be something spectacular, like a prize-winning novel or plans for a working time machine. I find even little grocery lists exciting, though. I found one squashed at the bottom of my purse the other day. "Talapia (6). Romain lettuce. Stuff for Caesar salad. Gushers." Oh, that's when I was at home still, helping my mum out. My heart thrills at this little happy memory, and I don't want to throw this piece of my history away. It's beautiful in its simplicity. Some fish, some veggies, snacks for my brother. So boring to most, but to me a reminder of a wonderful supper, laughing with my family. And I want to keep it. Every piece of paper I come in contact with has potential to be like this one. Full of simple words, but also of deeper thoughts, on love and summer and family.