My Love affair with notebooks

I love food and I announce it often times, proud and loud.
However, that I love notebooks is a quieter thing that very few know
I am in a way ashamed of it even
Not ashamed that I love notebooks,
But that I don't love them right

I could be compared to a cruel man
Who collects gorgeous women
And keeps them locked away
Cruel, not because he doesn't love them
But because he collects them believing he would love them right at some point
And never feels any moment is special enough
For that amazing occasion

One souvenir I get myself
From almost every country I visit
Is a notebook, (or two, more like - just in case, you know?)

I have notebooks of all kinds
Tall ones, fat ones, tiny ones
Ruled...unruled
Locked, easy to open
In a box
Hard bound, spiral bound
Many pretty pretty ones

I keep them safe and neat
In my cupboard
Often finding an old one,
And spending a moment smiling at how beautiful it is
Promising it that one day, I will write something very special in it
But I become like a protective father then
Like no man is good enough
No occasion special enough to start them

I have used many notebooks
Bought them for specific purposes
And left them forgotten

So all these heartbreaking realizations later
Earlier this month,
I made a very difficult decision
I decided not to buy myself anymore notebooks
(Yes that's the sound of my heart cracking)
I followed it up with an even more difficult decision
That I would start using my notebooks
Before I get another new one
(Crushed to pieces, that's my heart)

I've even started clearing my table
Cleaning it, so only the special notebook can sit there proudly
I came to terms with not buying new notebooks for a long time

Last night,
My dad came home
he tossed a really pretty notebook right next to me
My hands itched to touch them
My eyes were analyzing them already
It however felt like a cruel joke
Like being taunted with that carrot you don't deserve
"Take it. I don't think I'll use it" He said
"Why thank you, I really appreciate it"
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding in.
It all felt right again.