"There never was a choice for us, was there?"
In my relatively short life, I’ve read books that were so good they made me want to rejoice the day their authors were born. I’ve 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 didn’t even bother finishing them.
And then, there were those books. Books that I can’t decide if they were good or bad or somewhere in between. Books that I’m not sure if I loved or hated. Books that I don’t know if enjoyed or not, but definitely left me feeling... scattered after the last page.
Mia Asher’s Arsen: A Broken Love Story is that kind of book.
It wasn’t 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 there’s this pain in my chest that I can’t explain.
My heart hurts and I don’t know. I just... don’t know.












