Fucking guts me every goddamned time, because it hits so close to home. And sometimes, it is so hard to have to be the one to decide that it ends with you. But if it’s a choice between feeling comfortable, content, and emotionally stable versus rereading the brutal honesty in every word Colleen Hoover writes, I’ll take the second option. Every time. Because it helps me understand so many complex events and emotions that other people like to pretend are so simple and straightforward.
Every. Time. This just guts me. I have a brutal headache. I’ve been emotionally distressed all day, and I just cried my eyes out, and yet there’s such a layer of raw truth in this book that even after it completely breaks me down, I just want to pick it back up and start again at the beginning.
If I want to read Colleen Hoover over and over again for fun, I’d run straight to UGLY LOVE, but when I want to read her best book, the one that she put the most of herself in and that because of that it’s so painfully honest and raw that it’s like having my skin scratched off with sandpaper while I read, then it’s this book.
And the author’s note at the end of the book is quite frankly the best and most upsetting part.
Book 321 read in 2018
I had no idea what this story was about. I just started it, because I read everything Colleen Hoover writes. No. I don’t just read her stories. I drink them down and dwell inside them. She creates characters and worlds that cling to you, that make you face all your hopes and fears, that put you through the full range of emotions.
Anyway, long story short, I was completely unprepared for how a book with such a pretty cover could contain such ugliness, pain, and suffering. I mean, the destroyed flower probably should have been a warning sign . . . Regardless, it’s still a gorgeous story, in the kind of way the embers of a fire are beautiful, after the flames have just destroyed something.
Be sure to read the author’s note at the end of the story.