Karen is asking what you'd miss if you couldn't read - couldn't as in: if you were stranded somewhere with no reading matter, or were under some sort of discipline not to read for a week. OK, so here's my answer. First of all, though I would dislike not being able to read even for a week, the period would have to be longer than that for the missing really to be of a suffering kind. Because, for a week or less, provided there were other normal amenities around and I wasn't, say, stuck in a large empty box, I could more than cope. I'd just do a lot of other things I like doing: I'd walk, I'd watch movies, I'd see friends, play games of various kinds, and reorganize things in my life that I thought needed reorganizing. I'd listen to music, play the piano. This would all keep me from fretting.
But if I were cut off from reading for a longer period, especially indefinitely, what I would miss is the pleasure of entering other worlds during chunks of my day: being immersed in these other places and/or times and in the inner and outer realities lived by others, their thoughts and feelings, their interactions. Escape? No, that's a pejorative way of putting a perfectly healthy impulse - wanting to be a party, if only vicariously, to the varieties of human experience. One can get the same thing, it might be said, through film, and that's true to an extent. But in reading it has a different kind of depth and a certain 'privacy' (for want of a better word). So it seems to me anyway. Something like that is what I'd miss.