It Ends With Us was good, borderline great, but it wasn’t fantastic. I’m not going to analyze the book or the characters; there are probably many reviews that already do that. I’m just going to (briefly) talk about how It Ends With Us made me feel.
It Ends With Us left me with a heavy heart. It wasn’t dark, but it went through so much. Both the good times and the bad times began piling one atop the other until I felt physically weighted and emotionally unsure of my exact feelings. I just knew that I felt heavy and full (and extremely book hungover), but I couldn’t confidently identify if I was also feeling happy or sad or drained. I was in a gray space of emotion, neither here nor there.
It Ends With Us didn’t make me laugh out loud like Confess did.
It didn’t make me cry like Confess did.
And I (probably) won’t read it over and over like I do with Confess.
It Ends With Us is a good read and has a great message (so you should read it), but it didn’t touch me the way I was expecting it to.