I love reading!

So much so that I broke my personal rule of writing without ever using an exclamation mark in the first sentence. But it's true, I love to read. It's one of the reasons I'm an English major and why I want to become an English teacher.

So why is my bookcase filled with unread books?

Because college has sucked the life out of me and I don't have time to read for leisure anymore.

Sure, amidst the myriad of literature courses I've already taken during my college career and am guaranteed to take in the future, I've read dozens of captivating books. They've even become some of my favorites, including "Mrs. Dalloway" by Virginia Woolf, "Written on the Body" by Jeanette Winterson, and Tom Stoppard’s play "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead."

But these books have all been assigned to me. I didn't get to choose them, and my tastes weren't taken into consideration.

Reading a book for school, however enjoyable, is not the same as wandering the shelves of a bookstore, being drawn to a title and settling down in your bed with the light still on to read deep into the night.

Between reading all of these assigned novels and plays, writing papers on them, reading other textbooks, doing research, presenting projects, student teaching and remembering to eat, sleep and breathe, I just don't have time to read a book simply to enjoy it.

It sucks, it truly does. There's no other way to put it.

I haven't lost my love for reading, but I've gained a ten mile long "To Read" list.

I hesitate to pick up the first book in a series. There's no way I'll be able to finish all of them without forgetting what happened in the previous books because it's been so long. Half the books in my bookshelf have a bookmark (usually the receipt for said book or a sticky note) somewhere in the middle, because halfway through reading it my attention was required for other tasks and I never found my way back.

I still read, though. I still find myself lost in the pages of someone else's mind, my heart suddenly beating in another time and place, tears bleeding through the pages my shaking hands turn. I still underline sentences and write quotes on sticky notes. I still carry a book with me everywhere I go, just in case I find a moment to myself.

My heart aches at the thought that there are books I will never read, worlds I will never see, characters I will never meet and beautiful, glorious sentences that make hearts swell and break simultaneously which I will never get to experience.

I tell myself that after college I'll have time to read. HA! What an even bigger joke. Life is going to get more hectic and crazy from here and I fear I'll have even less time to read.

However, those special, stolen moments when I do find time to read will always be revered. I'll never stop wanting to read or wanting to learn. Whether it's a book that's assigned to me or a book I pick up on my own, I see each page as a treasured privilege.

But seriously professors, I'd really like some time to read for pleasure, if you could find it in your hearts.