"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

You’re not dead, I know, but this is a love letter so I figured I’d share. You’re not my first boyfriend, but you are my first healthy one. You’re constantly telling me “I’m not like them.” and I know you’re not, they just still hurt me. I can’t talk about what they did, no one would give a damn and my already insane mother would never let me out of her sight ever again. I think that’s why I’m still haunted by them. I’m the type of person who needs to tell people what is wrong, but most people see me as a complainer. I’m trying so hard to let them go but part of them is still buried somewhere in me. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for taking it one step at a time with me.
Ever since we’ve been dating I’ve had a new outlook on life. People used to tell me that the world will slowly gain it’s color again, and they’re right. There’s not danger at every turn anymore. It’s liberating to see life everywhere. You really do bring out the best in me. You make me so happy it’s almost alarming. It feels like I’m above everything, floating high in the clouds, (in a good way, unlike Laurel).
If I could I’d write you a novel just to tell you how much I love you, but I don’t think you’d like something like that. I can’t really tell what goes on in your head when I get emotional like this, hence why I constantly apologize for showing emotion. Still, I love you nonetheless, and I hope that one day I can put my past behind me and show you how much I do.