I was 14 I think, when i first read the guy next door. I was just a Clara then i guess, with my unassuming looks, being quiet and a massive pushover, not to mention the best friend-who-turned-hot-after-middle-school-and-now-hates-you plot going on in the background. I couldn't understand how someone could have captured me so perfectly, like it was all written for me and about me. Now I'm 22, sitting in my dorm room, 3 drinks into the night and it's 4 AM. I'm not as sweet I was back then, I'm not as hopeful about my future or my love life at this point, Im just trying to stay afloat in law school somehow. I feel like Clara in the 2nd half now, a perfect good girl turned villain. I have stopped reading romance entirely and just... well I miss my old dainty self who would discuss about "the guy next door" loudly in lunch break with my best friends. I so so miss all that hope and innocence. As immature and "cringe" it may have been, your books were a great source of happiness and girl-like wonder for me and my friends back then, and when we catch up after years and years, it is still something we bring up in conversations. So I hope you know, Percabeth an Engineer, an accountant, a layer to be and a doctor to be still talk about your books in girl-like wonder. Much love.