It's no secret that I have a thing for shows that make me cry. Just look at my list of favorites: Les Miserables, Next to Normal, The Last Five Years...need I go on? But rarely do I find a show that sets me on the emotional roller coaster that this one did, and rarely does a new show secure a spot on my extended favorites list. But this one did.

Dear Evan Hansen tells the story of Evan (Ben Platt), the titular character, who suffers from severe social anxiety. This in and of itself is revolutionary to see onstage. Rarely is something like this addressed, and in this case it was done so beautifully. Evan's mental illness is treated as a setback, not a defining character trait. Under the surface of his stuttering word-vomit of tangled speech is just a person who wants to be loved and accepted. I think we all can relate to that.

The story begins with Evan writing a letter to himself, something his therapist told him would help make his days better. When the letter falls into the wrong hands, those of school bully Connor Murphy (Mike Faist), Evan tries to no avail to retrieve it. Without giving away any spoilers, the letter gets taken out of context, causing Evan to fall into a black hole of lies, with the help of family friend Jared (Will Roland) and classmate Alana (Kristolyn Lloyd). The lie spirals out of control, but it allows Evan to form a close relationship with Connor's parents, Larry and Cynthia (Michael Park and Jennifer Laura Thompson), and a romantic relationship with Connor's sister, and Evan's longtime crush, Zoe (Laura Dreyfuss). Eventually Evan's mom Heidi (Rachel Bay Jones) discovers Evan's secrets through a viral social media frenzy, forcing Evan to finally tell the truth and risk losing the closest relationships he's ever had.

The show, set to beautifully rich music by dynamic duo Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, forces audiences to reckon with the consequences of their actions, and consider what's most important: finding everything you've ever wanted because of a lie, or risk losing it all by telling the truth.

The set, by designer David Korins, features screens with scrolling social media streams and video footage, immersing the audience in the story from the moment they enter the theatre. But I strongly believe that this show, with a small company of only eight and a powerful book by Steven Levenson, could stand alone without all of that.

Dear Evan Hansen tells a story of acceptance, tolerance, and consequence that speaks to anyone who has ever identified as an outsider.

Currently playing an open run at the Music Box Theatre, 239 W. 45th St.