"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’m really sorry that we never met. As I grow older I think of you more and more. I hear about how good of a person you were, god never should’ve taken you the way he did. I love hearing stories about you, even though I haven’t heard many. I want to ask more but it hurts everyone too much to tell. From what I heard I think we would’ve gotten along very well. My dad always tells me how you would’ve loved us. Once a year the family goes to a special mass just for you. I wished I would have served it when I had the option, I’m sorry that I said no. I hate myself when I start to become jealous of everyone that had the opportunity to meet you. I get angry that cancer took you before we even had the chance to meet. I think about if you’ve watched us all grow up over the years. My life would have been much different if you were there with me. Whenever I pass by your picture on the shelf I climb on the couch to take it down. I hold it and think about what my life would have been like if I lived it with you. I still pray that I’ll meet you one day, I pray that I’ll go to bed and when I wake up I can go visit you. But I can’t. I won’t be able to visit you for a long time and it hurts me to think that way. I hope the world was everything you wished it was while you experienced your time on it.