A young man wanders through La Trinidad as Christmas Day nears, sleepless and burdened by a sadness that drives him into the valley's dimly lit streets. Here, he meets young men who live with the same pains. Souls seeking rest in coincidence, in alcohol, in casual sex.
For a while, his sorrow loosens, and in that reprieve, he gathers their stories along with his own. He turns them into letters for James, the one he hopes might someday pull him from the dark.
What unfolds is a narrative of survival... About a young man searching for escape from loneliness and his journey toward hope.
Throughout the book, we learn about the several men the narrator had met and shared intimate moments with, and yet, despite that, we know little about who James is and what actually happened between them. All I could tell and imply from the letters is that James is that special someone, most probably the "one that got away." And viewed from that perspective, I could definitely relate. There's certainly a "James" in my life too, and someone I wish I could write letters as heartbreakingly raw as the letters in this book.
I had a whirlwind of emotions right after finishing this. The most prominent one was the loneliness. It captured that perfectly, that I could almost taste it from every word of this book. The anger, the yearning—all of it so palpable. It has the fiercest opinions in life, and I admire how bravely they're put in here. The erotic scenes are hot and sensual, to the point of being immersive—like I was there close to them, watching, feeling the air around them. And I feel for the narrator every time the part about his family was brought up. It was messy and painful. And it broke my heart having to witness it, being described in such brutal detail.
However, I find some parts of this confusing. Like some chapters starting with "Dear James" but their contents seemed to be not in letter format. (Sometimes James was not addressed in after several paragraphs.) And the narrator, who started as a character in this story, becomes an omniscient narrator in some parts. I don't get how the unnamed narrator, who started with a limited perspective, was able to know how Mark and Anjo felt in that specific chapter. And who's Christopher?
The words used here are undeniably lyrical, sometimes poetic. There are so many quotable lines about love and family and heartbreak. But it's also this same quality that took me long to move past the early pages. It tends to be too purple at times, to the point of being distracting. But once I got to the part of learning about Rian, then Jus, then John, and so on—that's when I got hooked, to the point of finishing this within two days.
This should be a must-read for every gay man. It perfectly captures gay loneliness—the reason why we look for someone on dating apps, the excessive wondering whether this certain person is still thinking about us, and all the painful experiences often tied to simply being gay are here. Reading this feels like seeing a person in his purest, naked form. And actually, we don't get that kind of honesty often.