dead-child

i don’t understand why you’re explaining the movie to me. and you’re kinda contradiction yourself, too.

regardless, like i said I’m talking about a pattern and this movie was no exception. I didn’t say it was a bad movie so I’m wondering why you’re defending it at all.

I don’t mean that the mom role shouldn’t be the focus. I’m saying that I would like women protagonists above a certain age to be able to have a plot in which there are no relations to motherhood at all. no side plot. no mentioning of oh look I have a baby. no “we’re using your womb for sth sth”. no “my child is dead”. it’s cheap heterosexual misogyny when writers are incapable of writing women as standalone characters.

actresses have for decades been addressing this issue. because once you hit a certain age you don’t get to be just a capable character anymore when you’re a woman. you get to be a capable mom. that’s rubbish and serves no other purpose than to tell women that no matter how smart, capable, “empowering”, “reckless”, and “persistent” they are, their true happiness, their true calling lies in living for someone else, their offspring, the product of not just her but some guy.

in arrival’s case some guy whose romantic affections seemed forced–your words–and who wouldn’t stick around when she decided to share her burden with him.

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
You claim to love her, inside and out, but the only time you call her beautiful is when it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve already turned you down.
—  girls tell each other everything, c.j.n.

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.