This is a moving story of intimacy and lost illusions and betrayal of trust. Bob's struggle is both specific and universally resonant. His relationships with his parents and "best friend" add depth and texture to his narrative. Bob is a richly drawn and compelling narrator of his difficult story. I was thoroughly engaged and moved throughout.

Queer people often endure a "second" adolescence, experiencing dating/romantic initiations well after our peers. Add a neurodivergence: reality is experienced differently, subtext is lost, manipulations go unnoticed, and we're easy marks.
Osmundsen captures Bob's belated coming of age in riveting detail, heartbreaking because we recognize Alex's machinations while Bob can't. And it's a feeding frenzy.

Anyone who's given their heart to someone who then treated it as a food source will feel like their diary is being read aloud.

It's also a testament to resilience and growing up, even when our own brains make us bigger targets. Bravo!

The details of autistic teen Bob's relationship to (and with) his Broadway idol are specific and unique; the longing, elation, euphoria, doubt, and heartbreak that flow from it are universal and deeply relatable. This sordid tale of adulation, exploitation, and rejection is told with the gift of hindsight, but also through the twin lenses of the main character's youth and autism - his relationships to his parents and his alleged best friend Chloe make for complicated dramas in their own right. Wittily fictionalized but feeling gut-churningly real, the engaging LET ME KNOW IF I HURT YOU leaves a mark.