You ever love someone so much you want to eat their cuticles?

On the surface, Y/N seems to be a critique of the para-social relationship of we have with celebrities/characters and fandom culture as a whole. But somewhere in this surrealist mess, it feels like the text is trying to say something more profound about the corruption and unknowability of love, art, and maybe even God. Are we crawling up the Mountain of Purgatory, corrupting the meaning of love as we attempt to glimpse a God who will only disappoint us by not resembling our idols? Or is this just some Sad Girl Lit™ disguised as pretentious fan fiction? I have no idea. At times I thought it was genius before the narrative would yank me in another direction and just drag into the boring. I enjoyed this read and its exactly what I thought it was going to be, but thats about it.