the first time i watched this film, i didn't cry. and then 3 days later, in the shower, i sobbed.

this time, i didn't cry during the film either. then, just as the film faded to black, i burst into tears. maybe because rather than hewing a new scar, watching it a second time burst open the first again. all of the emotions, the heartbreak and the longing, they reentered through the backdoor as if to say, don't worry, we never really left.

taylor told me to watch it this time as if it is all a memory, the summer of longing every man holds in his heart and continues to return to. she said it would be more bearable this way. this is the only point i think i have ever in my life disagreed with taylor on: looking at it this way did not make it more bearable. because i couldn't stop thinking about how upon my returning to this movie, i was returning to this summer of longing. this summer somewhere in northern italy became my summer somewhere in northern italy. and everytime i return to it, the old familiar feelings reenter with the spare key i forgot i gave them. the heartbreak happens again. and even despite this emotional devastation, i will keep returning to this summer of longing, so long as i hold it in my heart. and i will hold it in my heart a long, long time. because i remember everything. i remember everything.