The characters in this story were incredibly shallow and one dimensional & the plot was unbearably predictable. I could describe 90% of the characters as nothing less than painfully obnoxious with no other side to them. The main character was the worst of them all, destroying practically everything in her path and leaving nothing behind of any value, quality or interest to the reader. Frankly, the way that she used up the end of her life was just plain stupid and it was physically painful to have read such a blatant disregard for life. If I could unread it, I would. The love interest was forced and bland, as if the only reason it was there was to have something else to write about because literally close to nothing happens in this book.

"I want to get away from all the labels. 'I'm OCD,' 'I'm depressed,' 'I'm a cutter,' they say, like these are the things that define them.

I'm the only one who is just Theodore Finch."

Rarely have I ever read a book that is more than just a story. This book takes your heart from the very beginning, with no forewarning and/or easing into the world that has been created. It proceeds to give you a roller coaster of hope, enlightenment, love and happiness, before slamming you with heartache and the overwhelming sadness that so many of us have faced, all before leaving us with once again, a silver lining of hope.

There is absolutely nothing I would change about this book. Not the outcome, not the struggle, not the light. So often we become so numb and blinded to the typical dressed up story about the flawed hero that we grow to overlook the little ones. The characters that don't get a voice or the ones that only get the chance to show their one dimension. This story breaks open those wallflowers and proudly shows us all their flaws and broken pieces in a ruthless yet beautiful symphony of laughter and tears.

This story reminds us that not everything is black and white. That there is gray in everything we see, everything we hear, and most importantly, everything we love.