You know when you're watching those last 20 minutes of Marley and Me and you can't even see the TV anymore for all the tears and snot and bits of stray tissue plastered on your ridiculous face? This book was like that. 
 Except it's not about a dog. And there's no Jennifer Aniston. 
 Isn't it incredible that a YA book has the ability to rip your heart out, reverse over it with a Range Rover, confirm it dead, change its mind, pick it up, give it a cuddle, piece it back together, fill it with immense joy and then hand it back to you all on one page? 
 Yes it is. Astonishing.