What gets me every time is how honest it feels about anger, guilt, and the thoughts we are ashamed to admit when we are losing someone we love. Conor is not polished or brave in a pretty way. He is messy, exhausted, scared, and painfully real. The monster’s stories feel strange at first, but they slowly peel back layers you didn’t realize were there, until the emotional weight lands all at once.
It is not an easy book to read, even though it is short. It lingers in that heavy space where love and loss overlap, and it does not offer cheap comfort. Still, there is a strange kind of release in how directly it names grief instead of trying to fix it.
Heartbreaking, tender, and memorable. Four stars only because I have to be emotionally prepared to ever revisit it again.
★★★★
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