It started some months ago.
I saw a preview, or maybe just a flash of a preview, on Netflix, and I said to myself, I’ve got to watch this movie. I’ve got to watch this movie.
And then, just as I was about to dig in, I found out it was based on a book by Nicholas Sparks.
And I wondered why I hadn’t heard about it. Neither the movie nor the book. Especially the movie, because the movie starred Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth from like donkey years ago.
So I put the movie on hold and went in search of the book.
I found it, and I started reading.
It is the book I’ve read for the longest time. It took me months. I didn’t know why at first.
But then I found out why.
As at the time I got to Chapter 31, I had even paused to write on my blog about how emotional I had felt reading it and everything. I knew the book was doing something to me, but I still hadn’t fully understood just how much.
Now, I’ve finished the book.
And, my goodness.
It was worth every damn page.
Every single page, from beginning to end.
No word was unnecessary. No part felt like it didn’t belong. It was amazing.
And now, after finishing the book, I clicked on the TV to finally watch the movie.
I watched for a moment and then shut it off.
I literally told myself, Let’s wait. We’ll do this later.
I can’t do this now.
I don’t have it in me.
Because I know I’m going to go through all those emotions again watching it, and right now, I’m just not ready for that.
But strangely, I think I’m looking forward to it.
Because if the book could make me feel this much, I’m curious about what seeing the story come alive on screen is going to do to me.
For now, though, I’m going to let the book sit with me a little.
The Last Song was an amazing one.


