Losing Hope

sort of like letting her win sometimes.
    I miss her like crazy, but we’ll be in the same town again in less than a month.
    A town with no parents.
    A town with no curfews.
    And if I have anything to do with it, she’ll have a closetful of nothing but dresses.
    Shit. Now that I look at it, I think we both might end up failing.
    A lot has happened since I last wrote to you, but then again nothing has happened. Compared to the first few months following my return from living with Dad in Austin, the rest of the year has been pretty tame. Once Sky found out the truth, Karen eased up on the technology restrictions. I got her an iPhone for her real birthday and she has a laptop now, so we get to see each other every night through Skype.
    I love Skype. A lot. Just sayin’.
    Mom and Dad are good. Dad didn’t put two and two together when he met Sky, which I didn’t really think he would to begin with. He never really spent a lot of time around her when we were kids because he worked so much. He does love her, though. And Mom? Good lord, Les. Mom can’t get enough of her. It kind of weirds me out how close they’ve become, but it’s also good. It’s good for Mom. I think having Sky as part of the family now has helped relieve some of the grief she still feels from your death.
    And yes, we all still feel it. Everyone who loved you still feels it. And while I don’t really relive your death anymore, I still miss you like hell. I miss you so much. Especially when something happens that I know you would think was funny. I catch myself laughing and then all of a sudden I realize I’m the only one laughing and it hits me that I was expecting you to laugh, too. I miss your laugh.
    I could go on and on about all the things I miss about you to the point that I start to feel sorry for myself again. But I’ve learned over the past year what it really means to be able to miss someone. In order to miss someone, that means you were privileged enough to have them in your life to begin with.
    And while seventeen years doesn’t seem like near enough time to have spent with you over the course of a lifetime, it’s still seventeen more years than the people that never knew you at all. So if I look at it that way . . . I’m pretty damn lucky.
    I’m the luckiest brother ever in the whole wide world.
    I’m gonna go live my life now, Les. A life I’m actually able to look forward to, and I honestly thought I’d never be able to say that. Then again, I honestly thought I’d always be hopeless, but I find hope every single day.
    And sometimes I find her at night, too . . . on Skype.
    I love you.
    Dean

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Acknowledgement
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    First and foremost, a huge thank-you to Griffin Peterson for gracing the cover of Losing Hope . Your kindness and humbleness are much appreciated by me, as well as the readers. Also, I would once again like to acknowledge all bloggers for your endless support. Without you, these books would not be possible.
    During the process of writing both Hopeless and Losing Hope , I never expected the type of support and feedback I have received from readers. So many of you have shared your stories with me and have taken the time to let me know how these books helped you overcome your own struggles and “chapter breaks.” For that, I thank each and every one of you who have reached out to me. It’s why I continue to write . . . because you continue to support me.

About the Author
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    Colleen Hoover is the New York Times bestselling author of four novels: Slammed , Point of Retreat , Hopeless, and This Girl . She lives in Texas with her husband and their three boys. To read more about this author, visit her website at www.colleenhoover.com .

Also by Colleen Hoover
    Slammed
    Point of Retreat
    Hopeless
    This Girl

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    This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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