In this, the one regret // Personal

sometimes I don't coordinate words and pictures very well. ;)

Covers gathered up to my chin, I would read late into the nights.  My parents would come in, and ask me why I wasn't asleep, and I would ask to "finish this one chapter pleaaase?" Hoping that the chapter I had just started was a very long one.  When I read Nancy Drew, I never got to sleep because I had to finish the entire book or risk bad dreams.  When I read Beatrix Potter, I always wanted to paint something afterwards.  But fantasy was my favorite then, I always wanted to be the princess in the stories, the one who wasn't like other princesses, but read those books, dabbled in magic, fought that dragon, cooked food, knew how to use a bow and arrow, and led the others in rebellion.  I loved my princess stories, and always tried to write my own.  I have several attempted novels of princesses (one of which was of twins, separated at birth, another desire of mine).
The library was my favorite place, and I went there as often as I could, the librarians frequently asking "are those ALL for you?", and happily burdened, I would stumble to the car with my load of books.
I read in the car, bed, during every meal, I occasionally snuck them into schoolwork, or tried to convince my mom that this particular book was for our "english class".  But I was home schooled, so we made up our own.  They didn't exactly want to discourage my reading.
I have one regret though, I no longer have those books, they're in different libraries, and I have no documentation of the books I read.  I cannot remember all that I read or what I thought of the books from when I was seven, or eleven, or twelve, and I cannot go back and read what I scribbled in them.
I still have many books to my name, but I grieve the ones I don't.  One particular book haunts me.  There was this big book of different re-tellings of princess stories.  I think there was a princess story with cherry blossoms, and other stories from all around the world.  It had twelve illustrations of princess in little ovals on the cover, and I loved it.  But I moved, and forgot what it was called and never saw it again.  I have looked for it many times, searching the sites from my old library, even calling them.  It bugs me that I can't remember it's name or find it.  I thought it was called Princess Stories from around the World, but I'm probably wrong, and I might never know.
But somewhere out there is a book that teases me with it's absence.  Maybe it wasn't even a very good book, and I wouldn't even like it now, but I still miss it sometimes, like I miss all the other books I've forgotten.
I'm not very good at remembering the words I've read, and snippets sometimes haunt me.  I wonder if they're of dreams I had once, or books I've actually read.
But words are something I love a lot, and I go back to the library, and revisit the sections I've been to a thousand times.  I love books, and stories, and reading them all.