No words. Almost.
I loved it. It was poignant but elegant, honest but gentle, difficult but careful. It describes the lives of a group of misfit high school students who really aren't misfits but who are caught up in difficult situations that are even more difficult to talk about. And I recognized it so well.
I recognized things in the main character that reflect myself at his age, directly. I hadn't realized until then how much of myself and my experiences I have blocked out of my psyche, because they are so difficult and sometimes they are awful and scary, but also because they don't reflect me anymore. My heart was his heart. My spinning mind was his spinning mind. His expression didn't match my expression exactly, but still...we express similar things in staggeringly different ways. It's survival.
After watching, all I wanted to do was stare at Cincinnati across the river. And touch everything carefully, because everything is fragile and breakable. And look for Jupiter, and the rest of the universe. And sip on a brilliantly crafted Kentucky Manhattan. And hold the hand of the frightened girl I used to be. And be held. And be honest. And grow.
So things are about to change, again. There will always be growing pains, because I will always be growing. I am thankful for grace, wherever I don't deserve it. I am thankful for community, wherever I can find it. I am ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-learning. And I won't stop.