Reading: Every Last One

I hadn’t really read a review for this book when I decided to buy it. I read the little blurb on The Book Depository and thought, yeah, that sounds like a book I would like.
I don’t think I was quite prepared for what the book had in store for me.
The first half of the book seemed to just drag along, I felt it was disjointed and it jumped back and forth and seemed a little too all over the place for my liking. (Maybe it’s my simple brain, I don’t know?)
Then right in the middle, the unimaginable happens and well, it made me tear up. And I was on the train. I had to put the book away.
Then the next morning I picked it up again and kept reading. I loved the second half of the book, not the subject matter, but the rawness of it. What was annoying in the beginning was mesmerising in the second half. It also made me think. And it made me sad. Soul sad.
I didn’t find any quote in the book that I loved and made me feel empowered or that lifted my spirits.
But the last line of the book really made me ponder my life and what I would do in the same circumstance.
It’s all I know how to do now. This is my life. I am trying.
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