More Happy Than Not

“He said he didn’t think about feelings when he was our age. Grandpa encouraged him to just have fun when he was ready, and to always make sure to wear a condom so he didn’t have to grow up too soon like some of his friends did. And he would’ve said you’re making him proud if you actually feel ready.”

Here we see Aaron seeking out his brother for the sex talk he missed from his father. The portion Eric remembers paints a damning picture of their father’s concept of masculinity: self-serving, self-motivated, and inherently sexual. It also suggests that a father might be made “proud” by a son’s readiness to have sex and frames it as an accomplishment, a valued milestone that reflects well on the father. It’s important to note that when Aaron’s father said he “didn’t think about feelings,” the implication is really that he didn’t think about the feelings of the women with whom he had sex, and that condoms were worn not to protect the woman from disease or pregnancy but to protect the man from responsibility.

“‘I couldn’t stand Sara’s paranoia anymore,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t stand people coming into the store for eight samples when they already knew what flavor they wanted. I couldn’t stand pumping air into bike tires so I quit that too. If it’s not doing something for me, I quit. There. I said it: I’m a quitter.’”

When we meet Thomas, he is breaking up with his girlfriend in public. This has an obvious, if subconscious, appeal to Aaron, who has recently been abandoned and deeply hurt by a guy who dumped him in favor of a girlfriend. The more Aaron gets to know Thomas, the more he discovers someone who lives authentically, who unashamedly pursues the things that bring him joy and passion, and who is not ashamed to simply stop doing things that make him miserable. These are all things Aaron wishes for himself in a better world.

“The baked pebbles burn, but it’s not any worse than the sand at Jones Beach. Speaking of which, two shirtless guys on a rooftop isn’t all that different from two shirtless guys at the beach, so we really shouldn’t have to No Homo this.” 

This is an instance of Aaron adhering to the obligations of masculinity despite his profound desire to free himself from its bounds. Ironically, Aaron is more cautious and guarded against partial nudity than the other boys are. For him, the male form is a source of sexual desire; for the others, it’s a source of pride and sometimes competition. Aaron is constantly doing the math of what he can do with whom and where it can be done. Thus, a beach is safe because partial nudity is traditional there regardless of gender or sexuality; the roof, a more intimate and private space, is not traditional. Aaron’s comparison of this moment to the beach highlights how aware he is of Thomas as an object of desire and longing and how desperately he’s trying to deny those feelings.

“This place belongs to someone who lives as many lives as possible. There are unfinished sheets of music, movie scripts… This is how Thomas lives his life, one misfired dream after the other. That journey may stretch for a lifetime, but even if he doesn’t discover that spark until he’s an old man, Thomas will die with wrinkles he earned and a smile on his face.” 

Again we see Thomas constructed as a foil to Aaron’s feelings of limitation. Where Aaron feels trapped by his circumstances, Thomas sees the world as wide open for him. These creative impulses are reflected in Aaron’s bond with Thomas as well as Collin. Aaron and Collin graffiti together, but that form of art is transient and unfulfilling. Thomas’s creative diversity and eagerness to try new things is something Aaron admires. Even at this early meeting, he believes Thomas has found the secret to living a good, happy life.

“‘I have nothing to forget, and I wouldn’t if I did,’ Thomas says. ‘Everyone plays a purpose, even fathers who lie to you or leave you behind. Time takes care of all that pain so if someone derails you, it’ll be okay eventually. You?’” 

Thomas tells Aaron this because Aaron needs to hear it. This is the novel’s main argument: that we can only grow in the future if we honor the seeds of the past. The addition of time to the discussion will later highlight the condensed timeline of Aaron’s traumas, procedure, and rediscovery of his sexuality. Aaron hasn’t given himself time to heal naturally and has rushed into an artificial solution that ultimately brings him misery.

“But for tonight, this is enough. From the shapes cast by the green paper lantern, you would never know that there were two boys sitting closely to one another trying to find themselves. You would only see shadows hugging, indiscriminate.” 

This image reflects Aaron’s own desire for privacy to figure himself out. On the roof, Thomas and Aaron can observe the world below them while remaining shadowed and protected from reciprocal observation. Privacy is something Aaron craves both materially (in his longing for a private bedroom) and psychologically (in his desperate need to find a place of peace where he can work through his feelings without feeling pressured to bow to others’ expectations).

“I have lost all these people. I’m left with a brother who snores. I’m left with post-programing infomercials about acne medicine, suicide prevention lines, and animal charities. I get up to turn off the TV before reruns of old and unfunny comedies come on, but one final ad catches my attention. Leteo. It promises forgetting and moving on.” 

The reader can imagine that this scene likely parallels Aaron’s interest in the procedure the first time around. He is feeling unwanted and abandoned, disconnected from his family, lonely, hurting from Thomas’s rejection. He sees the Leteo procedure not only as “forgetting” but also as “moving on,” a belief the novel heavily critiques and ultimately reveals as false. A person cannot move on when they do not know what they are moving on from.

“I know not being me will be a lie, but I know I’m doing myself a favor in the long run if I can somehow book a Leteo procedure. Because as I stand now, I have so much bullshit to look out for. Happiness shouldn’t be this hard.” 

This moment is very ironic, as Aaron is already not being himself—his lies have already shaped his perception of himself. It’s also clear here that while Aaron feels his problem stems from his sexuality, he’s at least somewhat aware that the real problem is other people’s opinions about his sexuality.

“I never thought someone would give me the hand-holding treatment. This must mean that I was wrong about everything I thought about myself. I scoot a little closer to Genevieve on the park bench. I squeeze her hand and say, ‘Sure. I’ll give being your boyfriend a shot.’” 

Aaron doesn’t believe that anyone would want to hold his hand because he does not believe his hand is worth holding. He’s visualized his future as consisting of shallow, very short sexual relationships with a partner who has no feelings for him. In this moment he feels genuinely wanted and pins his hopes on that, ignoring the fact that he doesn’t feel any romantic or sexual desire for Genevieve.

“I hear the door lock and I cry harder than I ever have in my entire life because I can’t change the way I am, not as fast and as easily as my father just stopped being Dad.”

In this parallel Aaron acknowledges that his sexuality is not a choice; it is an intrinsic part of him. At the same time, he positions being “Dad” as something different than being a father. “Dad” is a relational title, awarded to a man who supports and loves and protects you. “Dad” is not intrinsic in the way that Aaron’s sexuality is. This is an early gesture toward the novel’s goal of depicting relationships as important but not essential to your happiness or your ability to love and care for yourself.

“It’s weirdly possessive and obsessive to like someone; you want to learn all of his stories before anyone else and sometimes you want to be the only one who knows at all.” 

In some ways this quote depicts fairly widespread conceptions of what young love feels like. In other ways it reveals Aaron’s codependence and need for external validation. Wanting to be “the only one who knows at all” is another way of saying that you want to be special. Wanting to be special to a person you care for is not wrong or unhealthy, but Aaron’s constant and exclusive search for his own happiness and worth within that “specialness” is a significant contributor to his misery.

“His eyes are open but he’s not looking at me. He didn’t take his clothes off before getting into the tub. The water is deep red, stained by the blood spilling from his slit wrists. He came home to kill himself. He came home to kill himself before I could bring a boy here. He came home to kill himself because of me. All this blood. All this red makes me black out.”

Aaron immediately assumes the blame for his father’s suicide. Though his father had a long history of mental illness and substance use and was recently in jail, Aaron’s self-hatred looms so large in his mind that he locates the source of all tragedy in his own failures to be normal. The moment is also visceral, with short, repetitive sentences that convey Aaron’s shock and horror.

“This is one of those times where you swear you have to be sleeping and living in a nightmare because it’s so impossible that your life can only be a string of bad things until you’re completely abandoned.” 

Considering that the novel overall advocates for a happiness that is a “string of good things,” Aaron’s description here is significant. Because Aaron has no internal sense of value, he is buffeted by the rejection of others and sees such rejection as abandonment. His single-minded fantasy of perfection causes him a great deal of harm, as he struggles to find value in himself if he’s not seeing himself as valuable to others.

“I know Dad killed himself because of me. Mom thinks that his recent jail stint tipped him over the edge, that his many chemical imbalances caught up with him. Now I keep searching for happiness so I don’t end up like he did.” 

Aaron places many burdens on himself, and this paragraph reveals several of them. The primary one, of course, being his sense of responsibility for his father’s suicide. From Aaron’s perspective, it’s easy to think that he was the reason his father took his own life. Aaron shows us an alternative perspective, but he dismisses it as his mother trying to make him feel better. Ultimately, he conceives of his search for happiness as a necessity so that he won’t kill himself too. His culpability for his father’s death is undermined even as it’s asserted here; Aaron’s determination to find happiness and “not end up like” his father suggests that his father was incapable of finding happiness, not that he killed himself out of shame for his son’s sexuality.

“I was expecting relief but instead it’s the saddest pain I’ve ever experienced. I never once stop feeling empty or unworthy of anyone’s rescue, not even when the thin line on my wrist makes everything go red.” 

Aaron talks about his suicide attempt. The darkness and misery of it are important, as they alert the reader to the novel’s overall argument about the value of living. The novel advocates for the importance of both the good and the bad parts of life. Here, in Aaron’s potential last moments, he realizes that dying will not make him feel better. The intensity of his self-hatred comes through, too, so the reader can understand why he felt so urged to get the Leteo procedure.

“They turn away potential clients who only want a procedure to forget spoilers of Game of Thrones or someone who broke their heart. But this isn’t that movie. Leteo helps people who hurt themselves because of harmful memories—you won’t die from heartbreak but you’ll die from, well, killing yourself.” 

Aaron’s description of the criteria for the Leteo procedure highlights the discretion the institute practices in its selections. It also revisits Aaron’s struggle to find something to live for that doesn’t hinge upon the attentions of others. Note that he says the procedure is not intended for people who have broken hearts—but isn’t this exactly why Aaron is choosing to undergo it? He insists that he needs to forget his sexuality, but he really wants to forget the rejection and abandonment he experienced at the hands of Collin and his father.

“I fake a grin for her. I’m tired of faking, which is ridiculous considering the circumstances about to unfold. But at least I won’t know I’m faking, and that’s honest enough for me.” 

Here we see Aaron’s expectations for his personality after the procedure. As we saw earlier in Part 0, Aaron came to terms with the fact that his sexuality is an innate part of himself that he didn’t choose and cannot change. This quote demonstrates his very complex motivations and justifications. The procedure cannot change his nature, it can only hide and change memories. There’s no way it can make him straight, it can only make him forget that he’s gay—and thus, forget why he isn’t fulfilled by his life.

“I never wake up when the drowning starts like you would expect. I’m always suffocating for what seems like an unfair amount of time, considering I never chose to commit the crime he hated me for. I never chose anything. I just was. I just am.” 

This quote shows real progress for Aaron. He accepts that homosexuality isn’t something he chose or could choose but is simply part of him. This knowledge contrasts with what he says he hopes the procedure will accomplish, revealing a worrying conflict between what Aaron believes and what Aaron is trying to convince himself of. This conflict would be a productive source of analysis regarding the ethics of the Leteo procedure. How did this conflicted, self-loathing, lying young man get approved for this radical, life-altering procedure?

“He walks away. I watch him. I really wish people would just start punching me in the face again. At least a punch in the face would make me feel worthy of being hit. All this—Thomas and Genevieve laughing without me, Collin not giving a fuck about me—makes it clear that no one would have any problem forgetting that I existed.” 

Here we see one of the more explicit examples of Aaron’s dependence on other people for validation and happiness. Perceived abandonment devastates him and strips him of a sense of purpose and a will to live. Aaron sees any attention as preferable to being walked away from. He is desperately afraid of being forgotten and of being so insignificant that no one will even think to remember him.

“Memories: some can be sucker punching, others carry you forward; some stay with you forever, others you forget on your own. You can’t really know which ones you’ll survive if you don’t stay on the battlefield, bad times shooting at you like bullets. But if you’re lucky, you’ll have plenty of good times to shield you.” 

Aaron is beginning to comprehend the novel’s primary message: that you can never truly know yourself without both suffering and joy. He is also realizing that the only defense against trauma and unhappiness is to stand beside yourself rather than relying on other people to stand for you.

“Being gay wasn’t, and isn’t, the problem. It only seemed that way because of everything that branched out from it—my father taking his life, Collin abandoning me, getting jumped on the train, and all the uncertainty ahead. The problem was that I didn’t know any better because I forgot my life. And now I can’t forget.” 

After all the trauma and hardship and forgetting and remembering, Aaron has arrived at the conclusion the novel has plotted for him. He can see the larger picture of his life, to put into context his anxieties and desires, to learn from his mistakes and hope for a way to move forward.

“Other times pain acts as a compass to help you get through the messier tunnels of growing up. But the pain can only help you find happiness if you can remember it.”

This quote reiterates the novel’s main argument. It suggests that pain not only inevitable but also useful. This places pain and happiness in opposition the way dark and light or good and evil are constructed: there can be no light without dark, no good without evil. These relationships require balance and depend on their opposites to exist.

“‘Even if I’m gay?’ I say the word out loud, about myself, because even though I never chose this, I can choose to accept it before it’s too late.” 

Aaron’s confrontation with Brendan is profoundly healing for him in many ways. First, he claims his gayness openly and construct its rejection as a flaw within the rejecter rather than within the rejected. He also sees how his hatred for and denial of himself has caused so much damage in his life, and he recognizes how vital it is for him to come to peace with his own nature before he loses the ability to form new memories.