I stole books from Barnes and Noble for over 10 years because I couldn’t afford to buy them

For over 10 years I would steal books from Barnes and Noble. I never stole anything else. I never stole books from any other store. I was loyal to Barnes and Noble. I would buy something small each time I went after it. But I could never afford to buy the books. I didn’t have enough money, but I loved to read. I read so much that I would read cereal boxes if I had nothing else. I stole books about witches, books about aliens, books about other planets. I stole romance novels. I stole books about how to make soap. I would steal anything. I never felt guilty. And I loved to read them all. I still have the James Patterson books I stole almost 10 years ago. Alex Cross is my forever boo. I love the Pretty Little Liars books I stole. I love the Twilight books I stole. I no longer steal books. I can afford to buy them. But I’m sad now. I miss the process of stealing. I miss how it felt when I got away. I miss the sense of freedom. I miss how it made me feel. I miss being the ultimate rebel. I miss the cherished books I stole.