Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine

by Gail Honeyman

Grief is the price we pay for love, so they say. The price is far too high.

I have been waiting for death all my life. I do not mean that I actively wish to die, just that I do not really want to be alive.

Asking for help was anathema to me. I’d told Maria that. “And how’s that been working out for you so far?” she’d said. I didn’t appreciate her somewhat pointed tone, but she was quite right. That didn’t, however, mean that it was easy.