When Griffin’s first love and ex-boyfriend, Theo, dies in a drowning accident, his universe implodes. Even though Theo had moved to California for college and started seeing Jackson, Griffin never doubted Theo would come back to him when the time was right. But now, the future he’s been imagining for himself has gone far off course.
To make things worse, the only person who truly understands his heartache is Jackson. But no matter how much they open up to each other, Griffin’s downward spiral continues. He’s losing himself in his obsessive compulsions and destructive choices, and the secrets he’s been keeping are tearing him apart.
If Griffin is ever to rebuild his future, he must first confront his history, every last heartbreaking piece in the puzzle of his life.
The moment I read the synopsis of History is All You Left Me, I knew it would crush my heart, and I was not wrong. The book is about a seventeen-year-old boy grieving the death of his ex-boyfriend. His story intertwines with those of two other boys–his and Theo’s friend Wade and Theo’s new boyfriend Jackson–in a heartbreaking exploration of grief and truth and the meaning of other people in your life.
The book alternates between Griffin’s past relationship with Theo and his present after Theo’s death, and the result is an incredible amount of mood whiplash, to say the least. Theo and Griffin’s interactions in the early part of their relationship are so fun and cute and nerdy that I almost forgot I wasn’t reading a cute contemporary. And then the next chapter would happen and I would be trying not to cry. Again.
The relationships and emotions between the main characters of the book are raw and messy. Griffin doesn’t always do the right thing or feel the “right” emotions, and his arc isn’t a clear linear trajectory from A to Z so much as a jagged, occasionally shaky line. His grief and friendships and growth are all very authentic, as I’ve come to expect from Adam Silvera’s books after More Happy Than Not. And Griffin has OCD and it’s intrinsically tied with the way he processes the world and the way he grieves for Theo.
Adam Silvera’s writing is heartpunchingly gorgeous. Griffin’s pain and grief, the messiness and isolation of it, comes across in sentences so seemingly simple, but so impactful that I had to stop reading for a few seconds and stare at the words.
For those who (like me) have had their soul broken by More Happy Than Not, I will say that the ending of this book is more hopeful than that of his first book–still painful, but with Griffin slowly beginning to heal.