an attempt to describe what is happening in my soul after reading the lord of the rings

back when the bestie and I were roommates, i teased her about her obsession with Lord of the Rings. i laughed to myself (and sometimes to her face) as she stayed up late flipping pages fiercely. and i called her a nerd when she set up her collection of memorabilia. but here you have it, friends: i hereby eat my words. i finished reading the Return of the King on Sunday morning after a two-week binge, and let me tell you...since then there has been a sort of ache somewhere deep inside of me. something is different. i find my mind wandering to the Shire with the Hobbits, sitting in on the council of Elrond, laying on a bed of soft grass conversing with Treebeard. i almost don't feel like the same "me" anymore. call me crazy, i'm okay with that. tell me it's just a book (or series of books, if you want to get technical). you're right. but there is something about this story. something about the way it is told. something about the characters that rings true. it seems to put air in your lungs, a bounce in your step, and hope in your heart. i understand why she reads it every year. i understand why she gets excited to talk about it when someone brings it up. i even understand the memorabilia. we had class last night at my professor's house - and you know the first thing a seminary student does when they walk into a professor's house is look at their bookshelves - i found my eyes darting around for Lord of the Rings. as soon as i spotted them, i was satisfied (the Bilbo bobble-head i noticed later was icing on the cake). the only sad part was that i couldn't talk to her about the books because then i would have to admit that i had spent the weekend reading instead of doing the homework for her class. ;) so, fellow LotR nerds, consider me officially a part of the club. i will own it proudly.