"More than a stunning debut. It is the announcement of a bold new literary voice"
—Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I recently read this book that really hit home with me. I think you would have liked it, too. Well, as much as you could have liked a book like that. It’s lacking a good amount of swords and action for your taste.

There were a lot of lines in this book that made me have to stop, put the book down, and just kind of compose myself — way too many to recite here. They all made me think of you.

The letters that the protagonist wrote to Kurt Cobain ring the most prominent in my mind. The one in particular where the main character calls out Kurt for leaving his daughter, for killing himself, really struck a nerve, as you of course, can imagine. I can relate. I can’t really wrap my head around the fact that you were able to leave you mom, sister, brother, friends, and me, behind. Suicide doesn’t end the pain. It just passes it on to someone else.

This book really helped me realize my feelings as I go through missing you. I realize that it is okay to feel guilty, okay to feel crippling grief, and okay to feel angry as all hell. It’s okay. And I’m most certainly not alone in these feelings, as Laurel makes clear. I relate to her in definitely more aspects than one.

One line in the novel that I’ve been thinking about is one that said something like this. It doesn’t matter how sad or how guilty you are — it isn’t going to change anything. You can only change the future and how you are going to keep living your life despite these feelings. Although this seems obvious or rather blunt, it is deeper than it seems at face value. I am very guilty. I couldn’t save you. However, this also means that YOU couldn’t save you. Nor could anyone else. And that’s just the way it is.

I hope the author of this book reads this letter, and realizes just how much this book has impacted me. I can relate through the acts of the rape and loss, and just to Laurel in general. I didn’t realize how much I truly needed this book until I had closed the book upon reading the final page. This book touched me, helped me, and makes me think in ways that upset me, but in a good, magical way. I want to tell her thank you.

Some days it is really hard to get past my anger for you, kind of like how Laurel treats her mother. I hate you, I hate you so much for leaving me in this way. But I love you so much for being you. For fighting until you physically and mentally reached your peak. I love you for being this incredible beam of light, happiness, and wonder in my life, just as May was to Laurel. You made me feel like I could fly — like a fairy.

I wish I could tell you how sorry I am for what I said, how I acted. If I hadn’t done or said what I did, maybe you would still be here. Or maybe you wouldn’t. But I’m sorry, and I wish I could share with you how much love I feel and have always felt for you. Words are empty — but my feelings aren’t. It’s amazing to be how similar Laurel and I are in that way — the way our loved one’s passed, the way the guilt of past actions ate us alive from the inside out.

I know things will get better. But I also know that I will never ever forget you, and I will still think of you when I drive by the trees we used to sit by for hours, or walk by your house and remember all the times we shared there, or walk through the halls of our high school and remembering your hand in mine as we faced the world together. I’ll never forget.