It is inherently difficult for books to make me cry. It is a fairly often occurrence for me to shed a tear during a sad film, but the last time I remember crying to a novel was from We Were Liars, which I read ages ago. I made it through most of this one with my solidified exterior, but let’s just say I’m glad I read the ending at home, because I was a blubbering idiot about ten pages from the end.
The thing about To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before is that it is written so beautifully, you want to cry simply because you wish you could write half as well as Jenny Han. She has a sheer gift to bring the life of a teenage girl alive on the page, and I fell in love with Lara Jean from her first words.