"So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them." 
 Trigger Warnings for: Sexual Assault and Molestation, Abortion, Suicide, Domestic Abuse, and Substance Abuse 
 I wish I had read this when I was younger because I know it would have meant so much more to me back then. This book tackles a lot of heavy hitting themes like isolation, rape, grief, drugs, abortion, and sexuality - but it also has moments of euphoria, and a sense of belonging with a group of people you feel comfortable enough to be yourself around. 
 The only big issue I have is the length of it. I felt like some moments didn't have as a much of an emotional impact (this is coming from a huge cry baby) as they could have because you moved straight to the next scene. This book just wasn't as compelling as the ending and the prologue. 
 Charlie's nativity did get annoying at times, but you must take a step back and remember why he's so naive (if you started singing Naive, I love you. It was interesting to see him grow internally - from a passive bystander with no friends (or an incentive to make any), to someone that actively tries to participate in life, that slowly gains confidence from things as mundane as writing a letter, and someone that's also not afraid to confront others. 
 Spoilers. Go away if you haven't read this. Prepare for a shit-storm of repetition and half assed thoughts because I'm sleepy and too tired to even think of more pathetic excuses. 
 (view spoiler)[ 
 The strongest moments in this book for me was the ending and the epilogue. 
 Charlie loved Aunt Helen, she gave him two presents a year and she also gave him books, which Charlie's father initially thought were a little too old for him but shrugged it off. She was the only person to give physical affection to him in the form of hugs. Charlie has a deep sense of guilt over the death of Aunt Helen and blames himself. If she hadn't left to get him a gift, she wouldn't have been in a car crash. But there's so much more to it than that. 
 It's interesting because Stephen Chbosky slides in these subtle Easter eggs that point to the fact that there is more to Charlie and his feelings than what initially meets the eye, not just with molestation, but the idea that there is something we're not seeing. Charlie doesn't entirely grasp the meaning of rape. One night he listens to a girl repeatedly say no - he covers his ears and tries to block it out, but it's not until a year or so later that he realises it was rape. Charlie saw Dave the next day and was furious, he was surprised and scared of his own anger. He also has some pretty big anger management issues... 
 "I used to play sports when I was little, and I was actually very good, but the problem was that it used to make me too aggressive, so the doctors told my mom I would have to stop" 
 That one is a swing in the dark, but it shows there's a hell of a lot more simmering under the surface of Charlie. His psychiatrist often asks about his childhood and he doesn't understand why. This hints that his psychiatrist thinks something may have happened in his childhood that has deeply influenced the person he is today. 
 Aunt Helen had been molested as a child by a family friend, when she talked to her family about it, they didn't believe her and continued to invite him over. The abuse continued until she got out, but the trauma followed her long into adulthood. She turned to substance abuse and was regularly hospitalised. Though abusers aren't exclusively limited to being abused themselves, it can play a huge factor into it. 
 Towards the end of the book Charlie is fooling around with Sam and enjoying it, until she reaches into his pants and he immediately stops. 
 "I shook my head. It felt good actually. I didn't know what was wrong." 
 "You're not ready? She asked. 
 I nodded. But that wasn't it. I didn't know what it was." 
 And then... 
 "And just before I fell asleep, I said something. 
 "I can't do that anymore. I'm sorry." 
 "It's Okay Charlie. Just go to sleep." Sam said. 
 But I wasn't talking to Sam anymore. I was talking to someone else." 
 Charlie then has a dream where Aunt Helen "was doing what Sam was doing" 
 He then begins to realise he had been repressing the trauma, it had happened every Saturday when they would watch TV. But one thing I really appreciated about the prologue was how it pointed towards a domino effect of abuse. He didn't blame aunt Helen (I'm not saying she didn't deserve to be held accountable) because he realised the impact and influence her past had on her. From her grandfather hitting her, her abuser, and the abuser that raped him. But most importantly, he thought about how he would break the cycle. How he would never make his children feel like their pain was undignified because others "had it worse". 
 Mental illness is often romanticised in YA and I'm sick of it, you rarely see someone with mental illness in YA go to a professional because they meet someone and fall in love and all their problems magically disappear. I'm so glad this book didn't go down that route (yeah, it sucked seeing someone go through that pain. But it was honest, it was brutal, and that's the reality of it sometimes), and it showed the mentality of someone seeking help, and trying to live, but also trying to hold an optimistic outlook because it can be so easy to flush that down the shitter. 
 "So, if this does end up being my last letter, please believe that things are good with me, and even when they are not, they will be soon enough." 
 (hide spoiler)]