You Matter Book Novels & Stories

It feels like refreshing your stats at 3am just to see if one more person clicked. And then you showed up. You clicked. You read. You stayed. You voted. You commented. You added my book to your library like it mattered. And to me? That's everything. That's you saying "I see you and I pick you." Out of all the books on this app, you picked mine. Do you know how insane that is? How grateful I am? So here's my Christmas wish... if this book has made you feel something, anything... would you leave me a review? 🥺🎁

Varun: "Maybe it's my fault that you have to think before talking to me. But it's okay, maybe I don't matter to you anymore. Maybe I did at a point in time but now I don't think so I do" Alizeh: "It's not like that. If you didn't matter to me then I would have not been explaining to you this much. And I didn't say I think before speaking to you, I am not playing the blame game here, I am just telling you. I am not kidding, I don't even bother to reply to the messages of the people who don't matter to me now" Varun: "Okay, now go and enjoy" Alizeh: "Okay"

“I think what you’re building matters more than you know.” “I think it matters because of what happened to you,” Dave said gently. “And to Thomas. And to Robert. And to Grace. And to everyone who got put somewhere or sent away or quietly erased because the people who should have protected them decided it was inconvenient.” He closed the notebook. “I think the system is just the tool. The point is that nobody should have to wait for someone like me to turn up with a chair plan and a tablet. The finding should be possible for anyone who needs it.” The silence that followed was the best kind, the kind that meant what had been said had landed properly, that it was being held rather than immediat

Fuck I miss them too, I hope they don't hate me. "Well I'm back to work now. I'm actually in Paris, first time that I've been back since we were here together, and my god the whole fucking town reminds me of you. I even went to that little bookstore that I took you to, trying to find a little piece of you to keep with me. I found a book that reminded me of you. It's called 'Finding the joy in the smallest things'. That's what you do, you're grateful for the little things in life, you made me grateful for the small things. I found joy in your laugh, your smile, your presence, even finding this stupid little book. But now that I've started reading it I've realised it's one of those self help b

Because talking was what the chair and the three in the morning and the small person in my arms required and I was learning to give what the moment required without deliberating too long about whether it was the right thing. It was always the right thing. "I know you cannot hear or understand anything yet," I said. Quietly. The specific low voice I had found somewhere in the first days that existed for her specifically and for no other context. "The books say you cannot. I have read four of them." Hope made a small sound. "But I want you to know something," I said. "You have already changed everything about how I understand what matters. You have been here eleven days. Eleven days and the en

" ******** ( Author's Note ) Hey babes.... Don't forget to let me know your opinions. You know both you and I are making this book. So your opinions matters to much. Because I can use opinions in the next chapters.

Selves being made smaller by increments so gradual they'd stopped noticing. "Claire said the story that matters is discovering who you were and deciding what to do with it," I said. "Do you agree?" "I think the story that matters is what comes after that. What you build when you finally know who you are. The foundation. Grace and Daniel. You. Robert. All of it." I looked at him. "If one woman reads it and recognizes herself and leaves. Or stays and asks for help. Or just feels less alone. That's worth going back through it."

Years ago, when we were broke, I'd eyed that keychain at the park but passed to save money. Now, I barely glanced at it. "Leave it on the coffee table." From Lila's post, I knew it was a freebie for spending $999. "Babe, don't be mad," he said. "It was Lila's birthday, and she begged to go to the park." "Don't worry," I said, my voice flat. "Birthdays matter." He noticed my packed desk. "You quit? No big deal. I'll take care of you. My money is yours, too."

The flowers, delicate and enduring, seemed to embody the resilience and beauty of those who had shared their stories. Later, Yam organized a small reading session—Letters From Nobody, Responded By Everybody. Participants read entries aloud anonymously, followed by open replies offered like small gifts. One letter said: “I feel like the only person who doesn’t know how to be happy.” A reply came softly from someone in the back: “Happiness isn’t a requirement for worth. You’re already enough.” These words resonated deeply, a reminder that worth was not contingent on external validation.

DEDICATION: I dedicate this chapter to 'Mhiz Grace Pretty' for dropping two gems on my book this month. You are amazing 😘 Elliot's POV The book was magnificent. Just as I imagined. Once I reached home I had already prepared myself to open it but I had to savour the moment of having the first magic book in the world.