The Perks of Being a Wallflower

by Stephen Chbosky

Dear friend, I wish I could report that it’s getting better, but unfortunately it isn’t. It’s hard, too, because we’ve started school again, and I can’t go to the places where I used to go. And it can’t be like it was. And I wasn’t ready to say good-bye just yet.

things change. And friends leave. And life doesn’t stop for anybody.

“If you ever do this again, I’ll tell everyone. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll blind you.”

When she was too far away to see me, I started to cry again. Because she was my friend again. And that was enough for me.

it was about time to stop smoking so much pot.

There’s nothing like the deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons. It was that great.

try to be a filter, not a sponge.”

New York University.

“I would die for you. But I won’t live for you.” Something like that. I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people.

My brother said recently on the phone that if he makes it to the pros, I don’t have to worry about my college money at all. He said he’d take care of it. I can’t wait to see my brother. He’s coming home for my sister’s graduation, which is so nice.

I’m afraid that maybe since he isn’t sad, he won’t want to spend time with me.

That’s not why they broke up.

I realized that throughout the course of the evening, I wasn’t happy about Craig and Sam breaking up. Not at all.

And I guess I realized at that moment that I really did love her. Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn’t matter.

“Charlie, do you know how smart you are?”

“Charlie, you’re one of the most gifted people I’ve ever known. And I don’t mean in terms of my other students. I mean in terms of anyone I’ve ever met. That’s why I gave you the extra work. I was wondering if you were aware of that?”

He just let me hear what he had to say in my own way and let things be.

No more pencils/no more books/no more teachers’ dirty looks/when the teacher rings the bell/drop your books and run like hell.

And my mom kept shushing my grandfather, who kept talking about how many black people were in the school.

I love my mom so much. I don’t care if that’s corny to say.

I think on my next birthday, I’m going to buy her a present. I think that should be the tradition. The kid gets gifts from everybody, and he buys one present for his mom since she was there, too. I think that would be nice.

“when you were this high” with the appropriate gesture.

Sam didn’t rip any of the paper. She just plucked off the tape.

Under the books was a card that I wrote using the typewriter Sam bought me. The cards said that these were my copies of all my favorite books, and I wanted Sam and Patrick to have them because they were my two favorite people in the whole world. When they both looked up from reading, they were quiet. Nobody smiled or cried or did anything. We were just open, looking at each other. They knew I meant the cards I wrote. And I knew it meant a lot to them.

crying because it suddenly hit me that they were all leaving.

“You know I’m leaving in a week, Charlie?” “Yeah. I know.” “Don’t start crying again.” “Okay.”

It was about one o’clock in the morning when it suddenly occurred to me. “Oh my God!” I said. “What’s wrong, Charlie?” “Tomorrow’s a school day!” I don’t think I could have made them laugh harder.

By the way, I ended up getting straight A’s this whole year. My mother was very proud and put my report card on the refrigerator.

The inside jokes weren’t jokes anymore. They had become stories.

In the silence, I remembered this one time that I never told anybody about. The time we were walking. Just the three of us. And I was in the middle. I don’t remember where we were walking to or where we were walking from. I don’t even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere.

I wanted to remember everything. Especially the sound of her voice.

So, why would I care whether or not he loved me when he didn’t really even know me?”

But it still felt like a goodbye rather than a “see ya.”

don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. I know other people have it a lot worse. I do know that, but it’s crashing in anyway,

It’s nice to have things to look forward

So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.

And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn’t really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.

We were just there together. And that was enough.

So, if this does end up being my last letter, please believe that things are good with me, and even when they’re not, they will be soon enough.

Once and for all. Forever and always. You are not alone.

And I can tell you what happened to Charlie in three words… He made it. And so will you.