Me Before You

Sunday was a rainy day, one that begged you to open the blinds to allow weak strips of sunlight to peek through, one that told you to stay wrapped up in your blanket and read because there's nothing else worth doing.

So I did. I stayed in my pajamas the majority of the day and read Me Before You by Jojo Moyes from cover to cover.


Read this book. Seriously, you must read it. I don't want to give this book the short end of the stick when it comes to writing a review, but I don't actually think there's much that can be said about it. Or, more accurately, there's so much that can be said about it, once you encounter someone else who has read it. I think it's best to open the cover knowing as little as possible about the subject matter. Let yourself go in with no expectations and be overcome with the characters and the story. One of those books where you read it as quickly as you can, savoring the prose while needing to know what happens, though you don't actually want to reach the end.

From the beginning, I was drawn in by the characters, by the country I fell in love with last October, but then the story came forward and swept me away. It addresses so much more than I expected. It had words for some of the feelings I have been trying to put to paper for over a year now. It explained what it's like to stumble into something you never would have imagined for yourself, to be swept up in someone else and realize how different each life is. To understand you can make a difference in the smallest of ways, and to dedicate time and energy to pinpointing exactly what that thing may be, and doing it.

This is vague, because it's hard to understand if you haven't read the book, and I don't want to give away even a smidge of this wonderful story. And this is vague, because I can't find my own words to say what has been inside of me for awhile now. But I'm working on it. So until you can read that, read this book. And let's talk about it.