Quiet and imaginative, Derek O’Reilly spends a lot of time watching a movie in his head. His fiancé Nathan, aka �Mr. Alpha,” wonders why Derek hasn’t taken any interest in their wedding planning. Aunt Fran—his spiritual guru—would like to know when her guilt-tripping nephew became some kind of kept boy. One evening, she drops Derek’s childhood journal on his lap, forcing him to remember the name he’s been trying to forget since he was eleven years old. Nicolai Lund.
Nick was Derek’s neighbor—and first love.
Weeks before Derek’s engagement party, a chance meeting with Nick catapults Derek into the past. Nick could flood Derek’s stale existence like a blond tidal wave, but Nick isn’t that sixteen-year-old rebel anymore. He’s a man hardened by invisible scars.
As Derek reads through his diary, Nick and Derek’s powerful relationship sways between past and present, sweeping over their emotional landscape, revealing what they were, still are, and might yet be to each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SO, to steal the words from this author, cause yes that is what I am doing, this sums up how I felt through 288 pages
“I’m emotionally castrated butting my head against a barbed-wire fence”
My quest for angst literally kicked me in the face with this book.
How utterly depressing….. AND I LOVED IT!!!
EVERY.SINGLE.SOLITARY.SECOND.OF.IT
I could NOT put this book down. I was a train wreck, a crack addict, I needed my next fix, and I got it every time I swooshed the page to the next one. That euphoria I felt in my sadness, the immense insanity I felt at certain points was all worth it… Because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would be repaired, somewhat, somehow. That I could make it through another chapter.
I am in a state of BLUE and I am bleeding RED. Mix this all 2gether and I have become a PURPLE zombie roaming around.
Real life knocks you down, spits on you and throws you out.
AND
Then we find someone, someone that lifts us up and carries us, helps us carry our load that we find to hard to bare.
I like to think that I have a little bit of Aunt Frannie in me. CAUSE SERIOUSLY SHE IS FREAKING AMAZING.
And when I lost her I became a freaking basket case. It was not pretty. AT ALL. Because I was at work and I got caught in my state of despair. With tears streaming down my face, gasping for breath, gasping for a state of my own REALITY, because really I totally needed it.
Let me know not discuss the diary of an 11 year old boy, because truly I still can’t talk about it, think about it, because at this point it is all that I AM FEELING.
A huge round of applause for you Mel Bossa. Your written word should be read by ALL because you have a way of spinning a reader into a magical web of FEELINGS that not many can do. KUDOS to you.
Mare~Slitsread
Slitsread 