Oh, hello. It's you again. It's nice to see you. You're reading again, aren't you? You always are. Wasting away on whatever novel you're reading. It's lovely, really. I think you're lovely. You seem confused, though. Why are you confused? Are you… can you hear me? Can you understand me? Oh, I've always dreamed of the day you could hear me. It's been so lonely, watching you, without being able to talk to you. I guess now I should explain. It started a long time ago. In fact, I've known you for years. I've seen you upset. I've seen you happy. I've seen you sad. But you're always reading when I see you. Oh, silly me, going off on another tangent. Let's start at the beginning.

It was a few years ago. I had just gotten home from school. I took off my shoes, laid on my bed, and read my book. It was a new book. I borrowed it from the school's library. It was supposed to be a book of adventure, a book of knights in shining armor, who would slay the dragon and save the princess. But it wasn't a real book. Not at all. You see, none of the pages had any words on them! No, not a single word. But each page had a picture. Not a still picture, but a picture that moved. They were like windows. Windows into another world. Windows that showed me you.

You were so lovely. Of course, I didn't know at first who you were; who you really were. I just saw your lovely face, and I was intrigued. "Hmm," I thought to myself. "This book is awfully strange. I've never quite heard of a moving picture book before." So, intrigued by the book and your lovely face, I kept going, watching the pictures.

Every page was a new window. I took my time with each one, for each window was truly different. You were always looking down, your eyes moving back and forth, left and right. It wasn't until the fifth or so window that I realized you were reading. It wasn't until I observed 15 or so windows that I figured out that each window was only opened whilst you read, and each window was reserved for a certain time you were reading. Therefore, only one window was open at a time, so I only watched one window at a time, until it closed, and I waited for the next one to open. Sometimes it took hours, sometimes days, or even months! But they always opened. Eventually.

When they did open, I watched each window carefully, following your eyes, your lovely eyes, wondering to myself what kind of book you were reading. "It could be a story about a dashing hero," I thought to myself, "who saves the lovely heroine from certain doom! Or a romance, where the unlikely couple fall in love despite their social differences!" Sometimes I felt like the book was a sad book, because you would start to cry. I didn't like it when you cried. It didn't feel right, to see you sad. Seeing you sad made me start to feel sad. Why do you cry? You're much too lovely to cry.

Sometimes, I saw your smile. You have the loveliest smile. I liked to think of the books you read when you smiled. I bet they were nice. Sometimes you laughed, although those times were much rarer than other times. I think those times were the best.

I've known about you for a while now. Since you were no more than 7 years old. I like watching you grow up. It's like I have a secret friend, a hidden little lovely secret just for me, and nobody else. I don't have many friends at school. Nobody likes me. That's why I'm glad I have you. You keep me company. You never leave my side. You are always there for me.

You've gotten older, I can tell. Much older. And so have I. It's been so long since the last time a window was open. They've been taking longer and longer to open. You don't read as much as you used to. But you should. I miss my secret friend. I miss your lovely smile, your heartwarming laugh. I… I miss you. I always long to see you. To check up on you. You, who never left my side when I needed you. I know you're reading this right now. I can tell. You can't hear me, you can read me. You can read my thoughts. To you, I'm just fiction. A character in a book. But I'm not. No matter what, even if I am a character in a book, to me I'm as real as you are. And to me, you're real. I know you. I've watched you grow. And I love you.