Around Halloween of 2014 I was having one of the worst weeks of my life. I can’t go into details because not all of them are mine, but I can say that I remember coming home one night and crying on my kitchen floor. I was alone and struggling through my own selfish emotions when I should have been strong for someone else.
At least he couldn’t see me breaking.
Sometime before that I must have bought Outlander. I think it sat on my bookshelf for quite some time before I even thought of picking it up. I just wasn’t into period fiction anymore. But I needed something to get me away from what I was going through. I needed to escape.
I fell so deeply into Outlander that time began to fly by. Claire was ripped away from the world she knew, the husband she loved and thrust into an uncertain time with untrusting people. If she could be strong and sassy in the face of all that then certainly I could pick myself up off the kitchen floor.
Then there was Jaime. What wasn’t there to love about Jaime? He was sweet and caring and honest and just all around a great man in the face of absolute shit. In so many ways he actually reminded me of my own husband, a man that I am so lucky to have.
How this book lasted me the week is beyond me. It must have been more tightly packed with words than I remember, but I’m grateful that it lasted that long. It was there for me that very lonely and painful time. It got me through some long bus rides and dark nights. It reminded me that I was stronger than I last thought.
While book two dragged and I didn’t make it all the way through, I’m thinking of picking it back up again. Not because something in my life sucks, but because it deserves a second chance and I find that I miss Claire and Jaime.