The Origin of Polyliteramore

Gratitude Challenge - Week 7 - A Friend 1

This is Ali. She is the gorgeous blonde girl, and I, unfortunately, am the strange-looking brunette. We met freshman year in our nerdy Honors English class, mostly due to alphabetical seating. We could not possibly be more different. She is loud and incredibly outgoing. I am shy until people get to know me. She is a people pleaser, and I do not care what people think. She has hundreds of friends and practically knows the whole school, while I am content with my small group of close amigas. So, why are we friends?

We read the same books and laugh at the same things. We are both artists, though she is a painter while I am a dancer. We have silent eye conversations. We are so weird, and our jokes do not even make sense. 

But all of this does not make Ali special. I love her because she can see through my facade when I say, "I am okay", and I am actually not. She gives the greatest hugs. Although she talks a lot, she listens more, a rare quality. She smiles more than she frowns. 

She inspired me to start this blog after we came up with the word polyliteramore. One day, we were discussing the struggle of reading various books and loving all of them. I proclaimed my polygamy when it came to my love of books, and she coined the term polyliteramore. A noun meaning lover of books and words.

As I write this blog, I realize that this word, this made-up, fictitious word, means so much more to me. A polyliteramore not only loves books, she loves life. Embodying this word requires rejoicing in the little moments, like a cup of tea or a John Green book. Life is too hard and too short to not savor sweet things.

This is why I am eternally grateful for Ali. She forces me to slow down my Type A personality, take a deep breath, and give life a little more love. I have found that life tends to love you back.