Brokeback

I'm still crying a bit. A real good friend had to drive back, even though we'd brought my car.

I read, or more accurately Ashley read to me, the short story and I kinda liked it. The movie was exceedingly faithful to the short story, and it was infinitely and exponentially better. It was brought alive, and I thought knowing the end would help me cope but it didn't.

I get headaches when I cry. Probably something to do with gasping for air. Just a dull one right now, somewhere behind the temple on the right mostly, so I don't really care, but it was worth it.

I really didn't like Heath Ledger coming into this movie. I'd only seen a few things by him, and I wasn't really impressed. I left in love with Twist, crushing on Jake, but my estimation of Ledger is way up.

Way, way up.

I'm also having trouble reconciling the movie to my understanding of the world. I would like to find someone that I can have a connection with, but I don't know if I can deal with that pain in the end.

So, would I like to be Jack or Ennis? I don't know. I won't ever, and the chance will probably never present itself, but I'd like to find something similar to Brokeback. A place where I can find pain and love and fear and hate and everything. Someone.

But I can't let it destroy me either.

I'm going to flop over and sleep now, I think, rather than doing anything else. This was New Year's Eve to me, really. Not because of some revelation, but because of the celebration.

But I still should watch Big Eden so that a sad gay movie gets followed by a happy one. Maybe tomorrow morning.