If Only I Had Told Her

“I cannot look back and say when I fell in love with Autumn Rose. Something I felt for her before I even learned to read had grown and sharpened as we grew up together.”

This quote establishes that Finn’s love for Autumn is embedded within his core memories; it developed so early that he cannot pinpoint a time when he was not in love with her. His love for her matured as he did, but it has never wavered, even though he does not articulate it to Autumn until the final days of his life.

“I love Sylvie, but I can’t say that I will be in love with her every day for the rest of my life. I adore so much about her and understand her foibles, but I’m not devoted to her. She’s a partner but not a part of who I am.”

Finn considers his relationship with Sylvie extensively and reiterates that he is in love with her. The problem is that the depth of his feelings for Sylvie does not match his feelings for Autumn. Notably, he feels that his love for Autumn is fundamental to his identity; Autumn feels the same about Finn, which is part of why his death affects her so deeply. The quote therefore helps set up the theme of how Loss of Identity Leads to Growth.

“At the time, I thought [Sylvie] hadn’t noticed what I had not said, but I was wrong.”

This quote foreshadows the fight that Sylvie and Finn will have on the night of his death about cheating. Sylvie has repeatedly asked Finn about Autumn, and Finn has either lied outright or by omission. Later in the novel, it is revealed that Sylvie was more aware than Finn knew of his feelings for Autumn.

“Again, I have that feeling that there must be a catch, that fate will not allow me to be with her; but when I looked back at Autumn and see her quietly and calmly watching me, waiting for whatever I say or do next, I realize that it doesn’t matter.”

Finn’s foreboding foreshadows his death a few chapters later, developing the theme of The Pain of Unrequited and Requited Love. However, the passage also establishes that he does not regret the path he’s taken. While Finn does not get to be with Autumn for very long, fate does allow him a short but wonderful day with her.

“Neither mother has ever said anything about us dating in all these years, not directly. That’s the thing about being raised by women: you learn about the layers of communication from an early age.”

This characterizes Claire and Angelina’s parenting style. Neither applied pressure to Autumn or Finn, but they were always warm and open. The passage also shows that Finn deeply values the women in his life and recognizes that being raised by women has strengthened him.

“I hate that this guy intimidates me. His behavior oozes everything I hate about stereotypes about my gender, yet somehow, there’s a part of me that wants to be man enough for him. It’s probably rooted in my dad not being around, but the point is guys like this one make me feel disgusted yet inadequate.”

This interaction between the gas station cashier and Finn points to a deeper issue. The absence of Finn’s father has left him uneasy interacting with other men—particularly toxic men. Despite the inadequacy that Finn feels, he stands up for Autumn and other women and girls that the cashier has leered at. Finn exemplifies a masculinity that rejects this kind of misogyny, which makes his death even more tragic.

“It’s not that Sylvie pretends to be rich. It’s more like she’s dressing for the adult she wants to be.”

Finn characterizes Sylvie sympathetically, never reducing her to a flat antagonist. While Sylvie serves as a foil for Autumn, Finn admires many of Sylvie’s traits—e.g., ambition—and believes being around her has made him a better person.

“I am in love with Sylvie, but I cannot be with her anymore, and that hurts. It also hurts to know that I am going to hurt her.”

While Finn must break up with Sylvie, it is not an easy decision, and he knows it will be painful for both of them. He is in love with both Sylvie and Autumn, which suggests that love is not always straightforward and simple.

“Autumn’s voice sounds terrible, so hoarse it’s barely a rasp. Everything about her is flat and emotionless, like a garden statue that decades of rain have left with only the impression of a face.”

Jack’s description of Autumn suggests that Finn’s death has in many ways erased her identity: She is “flat” and lacking in individuating features. This foreshadows Autumn’s attempt to die by suicide in the throes of depression and grief.

“‘Life can be and often is fiercely cruel,’ [Claire] continues. ‘You and Autumn have learned that a little younger than most, but you all, including Finny, would have had to learn it eventually.’ […] ‘Angelina and I already knew that about life. She—we’ve—losing a child is the worst, but we’ll survive, because we must. We all will, including Autumn. Including you.’”

Claire gives Jack this advice that sympathizes with and acknowledges the cruelty of what has happened to the teens. She emphasizes that those around him have gone through similar hardships to help him feel less isolated in his grief and give him hope that he can move beyond losing Finn.

“It seems so obvious now; it matters which people you spend time with, and it matters how you spend your time, because you don’t know how much you have.”

After Jack loses Finn, he begins to see the truth of people, and that truth can be unflattering. Jack realizes that except for Sylvie, Autumn, and Finn, the people he has surrounded himself with are not serving him well. The “party” that Alexis hosts shows how callous she is; she holds a gathering for friends and acquaintances rather than be with her best friend, Sylvie, who has just lost her boyfriend. Jack chooses to distance himself from her completely later in the novel while seeking out time with Sylvie and Autumn, who are more genuine people and loved Finn as Jack does.

“It hurts, yet it feels so good to think about Finn. I can’t stop tearing at the wound, because the wound is all I have left of him.”

Jack uses the metaphor of Finn’s memory being a wound that he cannot stop revisiting because even though it is painful, it is a connection to his best friend. Jack’s conflict involves letting Finn go so that he is not constantly hurting himself and can begin to live his life.

“‘Oh, I hate Finn,’ Sylvie assures me. She smiles softly at my shock. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I love him too. If I had the power to stop loving him, I would have long ago. So I love him, and I hate him.’”

Sylvie shocks Jack, but she also speaks to the complicated nature of love and grief. If Finn had survived the breakup with Sylvie, she would have had time to process her anger. His death complicated the grieving process and made anger less acceptable. The complexity of Sylvie’s grief mirrors the multifaceted emotions that Jack feels as he processes his own grief.

“Time is changing me. Nothing is changing Finn. Keep breathing through the pain. Will I someday dismiss the depth of our friendship as kid stuff? Will I someday remember Finn and realize it’s been years since I thought of him? Breathe. No. I could never go years without thinking about Finn. No matter how long I live, he’s always going to be one of the best guys that I’ve ever known.”

Jack’s running symbolically evokes his movement through his grief. He coaches himself to breathe in the same way that Finn coached him when they were running partners. This suggests that Jack is beginning to process that letting his life move forward does not mean letting go of Finn.

“‘Someday,’ Brett says, ‘you’ll think of Finn, and it won’t hurt. It’s not that the hurt ever goes away. You saw me today. But sometimes? Sometimes when I remember Todd, I’m just happy that I got to be his brother. Someday you’ll have that with Finn. I know it.’”

Brett speaks from a place further in the grieving process than Jack is. He can sympathize with Jack’s feelings but also offers him hope for the future. This develops the idea that it’s possible to fold a dead loved one’s memory into one’s existence without remaining stagnant and refusing to move on.

“Sylvie pauses and then says carefully, ‘There’re always things that we could have done differently. What matters is what we do now.’”

Jack feels extremely guilty for not reaching out to someone about his concerns over Autumn. He feels like he failed her and could have prevented her attempt to die by suicide. Sylvie—who is dealing with her own guilt—comforts him. She pushes him to focus on his actions moving forward and not on regrets; The Transformative Power of Understanding and Forgiveness encompasses forgiving oneself.

“Just know that you have a lot of people who care for you. And everyone, fucking everyone, who loved Finn wants you to be okay too, okay? Even if something happens to this baby. Stay alive.”

Jack reminds Autumn that she has relationships and people who love her, and who want her to be healthy and happy for her own sake—not just because she is pregnant with Finn’s baby. Jack spent much of Part 2 angry with Autumn, but now he is only angry that Autumn has hurt herself and wants her to get well, which illustrates his character development.

“So this is where I live, in a place where every shade of joy must be painted over in the black of Finny’s death, muted to the gray of willfully existing.”

This imagery of Alice’s life being muted and darkened evokes her depression and grief. Autumn is not able to enjoy shopping for her baby because it is painful to do so without Finn by her side. This juxtaposition of Finn’s death and the new life of the pregnancy hints at Autumn’s symbolic rebirth through loss.

“I have the dress as a talisman more than anything, proof that I am an adult woman, more or less.”

The little black dress becomes a symbol of transformation. When wearing it, Autumn feels like a woman for the first time. She uses the dress as a talisman for courage when she meets Finn’s father, John, for dinner in the final chapter.

“Love is an action and, and all the actions you are taking speak of love.”

When Dr. Singh listens to Autumn’s anxieties about not loving her baby enough, he questions her about what she is doing to care for her own physical health. When she reassures him she is doing what she should, he tells her she is doing all she can. She is worried about the complicated feelings she has for the baby, but Dr. Singh reminds her that her actions are a form of love.

“I know I’m a good writer. Now I want to be both a good writer and a good mother.”

This encapsulates Autumn’s struggle with her identity. She reconnects with her love of reading and writing but is unsure of what it means to be a good mother because of the many conflicting opinions on motherhood. Unlike most things in her life, she cannot just consult a book. Autumn needs to determine her path forward using advice from others and following her own heart.

“Have you ever had something like that in your past, where when you look back, your feelings are so obvious and your own thoughts were clearly lies to yourself?”

While John discusses his failure to be a present father to Finn, his words cause Autumn to reflect on the love between her and Finn. Their miscommunication and silence kept them apart for far longer than it should have; however, this allows her to find a common ground with John.

“Finny and I are having a daughter, and she’s probably going to be fine. Probably.”

This illustrates Autumn’s character growth, which has made her more confident in who she is. She was previously uncertain about being a mother at all, much less a good mother. Now, she faces the reality that her daughter has a hole in her heart, which could be fine or could be a major problem. While she is worried, she seems to have accepted that certain things are outside her control.