“Don’t let go.” Those were my first words to him, as I hung over the side of a London bridge. The words I would soon say again, in a moment that didn’t involve bridges, but something much more fragile: my heart.
He held onto me for three weeks, in a time when I needed to be held. Needed to connect to someone who understood how loss tunneled unrepentantly through the fabric of your soul.
Although he said he’d stay, we both knew he wouldn’t. I had already survived one loss—I didn’t know if I’d survive another.
She spun into my life like a tornado of smiles and chatter and everything else I’d long avoided, with a persistence that I admired, albeit begrudgingly. She broke down each neat wall I’d constructed without even trying. Her presence alone caused me to remember what it felt like to smile, to look forward to what the day would bring.
But it was only supposed to last three weeks.
“Don’t let go,” she’d pleaded.
I’d promised her I wouldn’t—but I would. I didn’t have a choice.
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Do you ever read a book and think, ‘wow, I must have read something different than everyone else did?’ No? Just me? That’s fine. That is how I felt about this book. Not that it was a bad book or that I didn’t enjoy it, I just didn’t find it to be as emotionally stimulating as most other reviewers. I’m going to keep this short for that very reason, I’m fairly sure my indifference to The Weight of Life had more to do with me than it did the book.
The Weight of Life was very slow; in some places, if it weren’t for feeling like the characters were interesting, I would have quit reading. The plot just didn’t hold much interest for me, I found myself much more interested in learning about the lives of the supporting characters than I was the main characters. Every time I thought the book was going to really delve into something that was going to pull on my heartstrings it quickly reversed directions, which did feel in keeping with the damage the MCs had experienced but it did take away from the reading experience, for me.
I will say that Whitney Barbetti develops some great characters, they were relatable, real, flawed, and interesting. They all had aspects of their personalities that left me wanting to know more about them. They saved this book for me and were the only reason I stuck with the book until the end.
I like nachos and champagne and clean sheets. I spend far too much time at Starbucks. I wrote a couple books