My Open Letter To "Highly Illogical Behavior"

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Dear Highly Illogical Behavior,

Let me start this letter by saying that you have pushed me. Pushed me out of my comfort zone. Out of my mind, and for a while, away from my ability to express the myriad of emotions that your story left me feeling.

You made me come to respect and identify with Solomon. A boy who, though faced with the seeming impossible limitations imposed upon him by severe Agoraphobia and Generalized Anxiety Disorder, chose to be a great student, a caring and compassionate son and grandson, and an honest and unconditional friend.
All in the face of people who, though they claimed to be normal, and claimed to love him for who he was... were and did anything but.

You enraged me with the self serving actions and motives of Lisa. A girl unable to deal with her mother's depression and serial relationships. A girl so riddled with insecurities about her value within her own relationship with longtime boyfriend, Clark, that she was willing to risk a breakup just to prove a point. But a girl who, never seemed to so much as bat an eye at stalking, deception, and manipulation. God Complex and self serving objectives in full working order.

You left me shaking my head in dismay. So sad that Solomon's parents were so relieved that someone, anyone would take an interest in their housebound son; so desperate to assuage their parental guilt for their assumed role in their son's dysfunction, that they never bothered to question Lisa's actions or intentions in any way.

You left me hopeful. When Sol met Clark. Glad to know that there was someone in Sol's life; there just for the sake of friendship. Someone who, for whatever reason, did not come equipped with some sort of agenda.
I was even excited for a while, at the prospect that Lisa might even be right. That there might even be a romantic future in the cards for the two of them.

But most of all, Highly Illogical Behavior. You taught me lessons. Lessons about human dignity, and everyone's right to be as self determinant about the course of their life as possible. For as much as we want the best for people. Or at least what we perceive the best to be. We as friends, loved ones, or even parents, cannot truly ever know what best is for this or that person. Only for ourselves. It is only by granting said person the same freedoms to choose, live, and be...within the confines of his or her own limitations, that we all become truly free.

Thank you!

Yours Truly,
Frishawn

Reviewer's Note: Though the format of this review is a bit unorthodox. It is in fact, a review. 5\5 Stars. I received the review copy of the above referenced work as a part of Penguin Random House First To Read. All opinions expressed herein are mine, and bear no third party influence.
 

About John
John Corey WhaleyJOHN ‘COREY’ WHALEY grew up in the small town of Springhill, Louisiana, where he learned to be sarcastic and to tell stories. He has a B.A. in English from Louisiana Tech University, as well as an M.A in Secondary English Education. He started writing stories about aliens and underwater civilizations when he was around ten or eleven, but now writes realistic YA fiction (which sometimes includes zombies…).
 He taught public school for five years and spent much of that time daydreaming about being a full-time writer…and dodging his students’ crafty projectiles. He is terrible at most sports, but is an occasional kayaker and bongo player. He is obsessed with movies, music, and traveling to new places. He is an incredibly picky eater and has never been punched in the face, though he has come quite close. One time, when he was a kid, he had a curse put on him by a strange woman in the arcade section of a Wal-Mart. His favorite word is defenestration. His favorite color is green. His favorite smell is br/> books. He currently splits his time between Louisiana and Los Angeles.

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