And on my tumblr, I've expressed my happiness with the book despite it being a horribly dark book.
"About 3/4 of the way through, I stop for a moment and realize that when I’m reading this book, I don’t see words on a page. It was incredibly surreal. I was definitely reading, but instead of recognizing words on a page, there’s a picture in front of my face, playing the scenes as I read along.
After that, I looked at the page kind of in disbelief and kind of feeling stupid for some reason. And then I came to wonder how a piece of paper could make me have such an experience… and then how great it was. It brought me to laugh, smile, I even cried twice. The pain I felt when I read about the main characters dilemma was so real. My heart was pounding. Fear. I couldn’t believe it. And when it ended, it took me a moment to bring my consciousness back to the real world. I had to re-discover my surroundings, and in fact, last night when I went to bed, I dreamt that I was in that world.
I woke up astonished, and also quite sad that I was removed from that dreamworld. Even if it was chaotic."
This was about the first book. Now that I'm through the entire trilogy, I feel like I must reflect, as most people would after finishing a book. Mainly, I am reflecting how the ending relates to me because obviously, I cannot relate to anything else in the book since our country is not divided the way Panem is, and we aren't annually hoarding off our children to fight each other to the death.
I must quote the book. If anyone random comes across this blog and plans to read the trilogy, don't read on.
Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments where he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.
So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"
I tell him, "Real."
This was the paragraph that hit me like a ton of bricks. THAT'S WHAT IT WAS. In the beginning of the book, I despite Peeta because he invaded what passion Katniss and Gale had for each other. With no hesitation. After the games took place, I knew Peeta loved her, and I knew she loved him too. But she also loved Gale.
This tormented pain of not knowing who she wanted was something I could relate to. I suffered with her.
During the second book, I started feeling as if Gale was the one invading. Wasn't it his fault? He never told Katniss he loved her. She didn't know. And she only felt like she did after he was jealous of Peeta. It was so indirect that I don't sympathize for his lack of action. Right from the beginning, Gale had the courage to tell her of his feelings. He had no hesitation of showing it, in fact it was too little hesitation. Gale was just confusing her. He was so indirect, ignoring her if he was angry, walking away from confrontation, always feeling the need to fight something.
Too much like Katniss. And now I realize, the reason I was never on Gale's side was because he was too similar to Katniss. Chaotic. Hunters. Fighters. The only thing that could come from such a relationship is, yes, passion, but constant disharmony.
Peeta offered Katniss what she could never offer herself. Peace. Hope for tomorrow. Constant love and support. Protection, both mentally and physically.
Gale only blocked physical attacks, but Peeta did that and more.
And it took me so long to figure out my discomfort for Gale.
My brother and friend, Maj, don't understand. Both of them are rooting for Gale for the sole fact that he is a hunter. They're not looking at the compatibility though, just survival.
I suppose this is a woman thing. | 
