Heartbroken

I tried to write something about how I felt after I saw "Brokeback Mountain." I was not able to finish it. I was looking for something. Something inside me. What I knew then was that I left the movie house heartbroken. Then I saw the overflowing of bloggers' reviews. Then I lost my determination of pursuing my Brokeback tribute. Many other people were more magnificently articulate with how they saw the film. I still couldn't find it in me why I was so moved by it. I couldn't find my "angle," which I hoped would be a "unique" contribution to Blogdom. I resisted in speaking about things that other writers have already said; I did not have an angle anymore.

I've heard about Brokeback as a film project long before it got made. I even thought it would never be made. Then the excited buzz came post-Sundance. Then Proulx's short story started circulating in the Yahoo! Groups. I tried very hard to resist the temptation of reading the story before seeing the film. (I gave in anyway.) I was afraid of not being able to appreciate the film if I read the story first. It has happened to me more than once: I not appreciating the film because the "story" was much better. Comparing works this way was not fair. In a paper I wrote for my COM-2 class, I lambasted "The Shining" for believing that (the late) Kubrick had a twisted vision of the story, which I considered one of Stephen King's all-time best works. (I'm a Stephen King fan.) My teacher commented I was quite passionate about the topic. Much later, having matured a bit in college, I realized that film is different language altogether.

I was moved by Brokeback the film. I think it actually enhanced my feelings towards the narrative and the characters. I think the film has helped me personalize the story even more -- reflected facets of the story, thoughts and nuances of characters with "my own story." That was how my friend Wally wrote his feedback/blog entry on Brokeback. He recalled events that led to his coming out, a recall worth 10 years of flashback. The difference between Wally and I, he didn't actually find the film beautiful. I did.

My coming out process would be a flashback worth as much, or maybe, give and take one or two years. Hard to recall actually, not solely for the amount of time that's needed to be leapt back, but also and probably moreso for having long buried some of the more painful details. Hard to recall when only bits and pieces remain of what's most easy to access, or when scary voices of seemingly legion-sized alteregos clamor inside my head, or when I think I am still undergoing this process of coming out. The story isn't finished yet. Maybe one day I'd be able to bring the memories back together and see for myself, for a bigger picture, how much I've fared in coming into my own. But for now, I'd settle for just this fact: that I am still learning to embrace my wholeness (and oh, what an even bigger wholeness I have to embrace now *tongue-in-cheek*).

Several years back, after an high school reunion event, an old friend asked me in relative confidence, "Ikaw, hindi mo pa sinasabi sa 'min, may girlfriend ka na ba, o mag-aasawa ka na ba?" I don't have a girlfriend, but I am in considerably spousal relations. Would that count for dear old friend? "Wala..." I finally exhaled, determined to hang up on this train of conversation. He offered a small smile, but somewhat bitterly. I looked away. He had a glimpse of my high-schoolish, identity-crisised life. He was almost a brother-confidante to me but I denied him and myself a closure.

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In the mean time, I come in solidarity with the rest of Brokeback's fans. I thank all those who believed that this film is 2006's Best Picture. I was in Baguio when the Oscars aired live. I had to rush all the pasalubong shopping to catch the show. Just caught the flash reports on CNN and BBC World. I felt heartbroken once again.