"There never was a choice for us, was there?"
In my relatively short life, Iâve read books that were so good they made me want to rejoice the day their authors were born. Iâve also read ones that were so bad they made me question the credibility (and sanity) of their publishers, ones that were so awful they gave me the urge to hit something for my wasted time, and ones that were just plain wrong I didnât even bother finishing them.
And then, there were those books. Books that I canât decide if they were good or bad or somewhere in between. Books that Iâm not sure if I loved or hated. Books that I donât know if enjoyed or not, but definitely left me feeling... scattered after the last page.
Mia Asherâs Arsen: A Broken Love Story is that kind of book.
It wasnât perfect, not by a long shot. I was skimming over paragraphs and there was even a point when I wanted to give up reading it entirely, but I persisted because what the hell. Then, the last few chapters came... and I suddenly found myself getting affected by what was happening. And then I finished it and now thereâs this pain in my chest that I canât explain.
My heart hurts and I donât know. I just... donât know.













