Tag Archives: weekend

Thoughts on Weekend

I’ve been meaning to see the film Weekend for a few years now and I just finished watching it. It’s a 2011 British film about two men who meet at a bar on a Friday night and share a profound weekend that stays with them.

The most intriguing aspect of the whole film was its dedication to realism. It almost feels like a documentary. The blueprint for 2013’s Blue Is the Warmest ColourThere is zero romanticized melodrama. No Hollywood shimmer. No love-lorn filters, no soundtrack, or any music to tie it all together. It’s all in the organic performances, the direction, the editing. (I would say the writing, but the actor said most of it ended up being improvised.) It’s as if someone decided to record their entire life with a camera and just happened to capture this one beautiful weekend with a man they had just met. It feels like real life captured on film. Even Blue had low key radiant cinematic vibes.

It raised a lot of questions for me as a gay, hopeless romantic. I identified with both characters’ personality wise. I’m confident, crass, and open in the way Glen was, but I’m also shy, romantic, and I have self doubts like Russell. I keep my private life private mostly because I’ve always been single.

When they first made eye contact with each other at the bar, Glen dropped his gaze and went to the bathroom. Russell followed him there. When I saw that, I thought “That’s me. That’s exactly what I do.” But not quite. It becomes evident that Russell followed Glen to pursue a hook up. I don’t follow men to the bathroom. I don’t follow men in the club hoping to hookup. I follow men because I want to initiate conversation with them and get to know them. When I see someone who catches my eye, I ponder the possibilities of their curiosity for me. I like to follow and see what happens, hoping they see my value. Maybe one of us would be brave enough to start speaking with the other.

Seeing how swiftly their relationship manifested over the course of a single weekend made me wonder if I would ever experience anything similar in my adult life. I know it’s not something I can muster, rather something I would have to experience and stumble into. Like Russell, I want to be in love. I want to be in a relationship. I believe standing up and proclaiming my love for a man is a radical act of love and a “fuck you” to naysayers.

I’m 24 years old, wondering why love is so elusive. I don’t go on dates because I’m not asked on any. In my experience, it never works out when I initiate and ask a guy out. Typically, the guys who make me want to initiate, are the ones I feel are out of my league— guys I feel like I need to prove myself to. It’s a subtle chase and overspending of energy, rather than a balance of mutual interest. When I’m asked out, there’s a comfort in knowing they’re interested enough in me to make the first move and see what else there might be.

I’ve been trying to stay in my own lane, work on myself, and just let it happen when it’s supposed to. But I still struggle with letting go. I’m slowly learning the art of patience, which to me means no more swiping, no more texting, no more making the first move. Move along and let him come to me. Weekend is a stunning film that shows how unexpectedly powerful a connection can be, even for just one weekend. Thank you for the beauty.


Pre-Birthday Winter Infinity

Today I found out that my friends actually read what I write. All writers know that we put ourselves into what we create, so when someone reads what we’ve written, they’ve gained a look into our perspectives. We willfully let them have access to that knowledge. We release those pieces of reality out into the universe in the way we choose to. That’s what I admire about writers. That’s what people mean when they tell me how brave I am for writing about something. It’s always been my nature for me to get my peace out there, to express myself, to be honest in framing my truth. I want to be a genuine story teller. I want for people to be able to connect with my spirit on the quietest, most anonymous level. It’s awe-inspiring to think about being able to put something out there and it being consumed and spat out in completely unique fashions every time. I want for all consumers to taste my spirit. I want to be able to unlock unknowable truths in the heart of the individual.

Tonight a friend sent me a letter that he wrote to an ex boyfriend explaining a recent difficult situation dealing with family and personal issues. Near the end of it, I looked up from where I was reading and gasped in horror at my realization of the delicate destruction of the human soul in everyone that I knew, casually or deeply. I teared as my mind filled with images of friends and their individual personal struggles. Some of them pick people who treat them like they’re nothing, some have accepted that they will never have a relationship with their parents, some have grown up with parents who never believed in them or showed them true love, some have parents who wish they could change their sexuality, some are lost and floating in the curse of repetition. Some have battled eating disorders and have never seen themselves as beautiful. Some have parents who have only pushed them one direction without any real support. Some live with the pain of not knowing their true worth or being scarred by the loss of a loved one. I felt the weight of our collective struggles and caught a glimpse of the true skeleton of being human.

We are all going through something. We all have shit that we carry and allow to influence our lives. I thought of my friend who sent me this letter whom I’m not even close with nor have even spoken extensively to in a long time. But his letter reminded me that we all live with some form of pain. That my pain does not have the final say. That we must unite and remember each other as people who also experience shittiness. We all have some kind of gray cloud, we all know what darkness is. I want to recognize that in everyone and I want that recognition to permeate through my relationship with everyone I meet or know. I want to start seeing people as people and not always align them with how I’m letting my pain affect me for the day. I’m not saying that my personal struggles shine through every day, because they don’t. I’m happy. I’m happy because I see the beauty in life where people sometimes fail to notice and I feel okay when I realize I am living within it. I feel blessed and content in recognizing the privilege I have over many others; the privilege of growing up American, having middle class working parents, a college education, food in the fridge, freedom of religion and speech, friends who care about the real me, and outlets for my creative expression. It is the night before my birthday party and hopefully I will still be having one. It’s snowing beautifully right now and I texted a close friend that I wish he was here with me so we could watch Perks of Being a Wallflower and drink hot drinks. If I ever felt infinite the way they did in that story, I would say I’m feeling it right now. Staring outside my window at the serenity of snow, watching the street become painted in white. It’s 2:43 AM, but it feels like time is frozen. I have stepped outside the daily orbit of humanity and am looking outside its bubble. My heavy eyelids suddenly beckon me to return and in a few moments I will brush my teeth, wash my face, prepare myself for bed. Goodnight beautiful universe.