Holding The Man

A couple of weeks ago I came across a book that really floored me.
I don't recall being as engrossed and as traumatised by something since I saw the film 2:37 a few years back.
The book is Holding The Man by Timothy Conigrave. It was released back in 1995, not long after he died from AIDS related illness some three years after his partner John Caleo also succumbed and the book is the story of their relationship.
I guess it's a touchy subject with some and I've found it tough to discuss.
In one way it is a very easy read, I love things written in the first person because it's more like someone is telling you a story rather than you reading it. (I think that makes sense).
But in another way it is incredibly difficult. It's a bit on the graphic side at times describing Tim's journey of self discovery and, even worse, it's pretty graphic when it comes to charting John's deterioration.
Holding The Man begins in the 70s and we meet Tim in grade four. He's your average Catholic kid growing up in Melbourne, he doesn't stand out and he's trying to work out where he stands in the world.
A few years later, in an all-boys Catholic senior school, he meets John, the captain of the footy team and seemingly your everyday jock. By this point Tim has realised that he's gay and, to his surprise, he strikes up a friendship with John that, to the casual observer, is a very odd one.
And I think that characterises their 15 year relationship that would follow.
It's as if Tim went his whole life thinking he either wasn't good enough or wasn't experienced enough for John. Sadly, it is this insecurity that ultimately led him to contract HIV (in my opinion) at a time when the disease was really only becoming known.
I won't go further into the book's story, you know where it heads.
It didn't take me long to read, partly because I couldn't put it down plus it's just under 300 pages.
Holding The Man is heartbreaking.
That's the main emotion I came away with. I was shattered, even though you knew exactly what was going to happen (hey, it's a true story), and I still really don't know how to process it.
One thing really stood out. Tim was the type of person who needed validation, whereas John was someone whose actions did the talking. He describes a conversation with his counsellor about it.

'' I wish John would tell me he loved me. 'Have you discussed it with him?. I said I had. 'And what does he say?' 'Words are cheap. Can't you see I love you?' I told him it'd be nice to hear it now and then. Mark (the counsellor) smiled. 'It's a classic case of different communication systems. You use lots of auditory words. 'Tell me. Nice to hear it'. John says 'Can't you see?'. He processes things differently. No doubt he shows he loves you. Maybe all you need to do is look around and see what kinds of things he does'.''

It got me thinking that I'm a bit on the auditory side. I believe it is nice to say things like I love you or I think you're awesome but it really hit me that at times I don't notice, and give enough credence to, the things that my friends do that show they care.
The devastating thing about Holding The Man is the realisation that Tim comes to once John has died.

'I guess the hardest thing is having so much love for you and it somehow not being returned. I develop crushes all the time but that is just misdirected need for you. You are a hole in my life, a black hole. Anything I place there cannot be returned. I miss you terribly.'

Genders aside, I can't imagine what that feels like. Just reading about it was hard enough, let alone having to go through watching the person you love fade away in front of you.
Sure, we only get to hear Tim's perspective and because of that it may be a somewhat romanticised version of what happened (in some aspects). It would be interesting to have heard some of the story from John's side but that will never happen.
Still, it's a story that's going to stay with me for a while.