What Love, Simon Meant To Me

So yesterday I went with a friend to see Love, Simon. I usually go to the cinema on my own when I want to see a film, something that started out as necessity (because making plans with uni students is like solving the Da Vinci code) but eventually just became a pleasant habit of mine.

However, I was reluctant to see this particular film on my own because I knew what it would mean to me. I had to see it in the cinema because I knew I had to support its box office revenue, as the more money it made the more studios in the future would think ‘huh, the gays sell after all, let’s make more!’

It’s terrible, but it’s true.

So I found myself in this difficult situation of knowing I had to see it but also knowing if I went on my own I’d be so overwhelmed after it ended I’d be sat in the seat of the cinema murmuring indistinct noises for hours to come as cleaners picked up discarded popcorn around me and repeated ‘please, sir, the next film is going to start and you’re disturbing the other patrons’

Luckily for me this seemingly inevitable situation was avoided when my dear friend messaged me asking if I wanted to see it with her. I immediately said yes, but I was still a little nervous about seeing it in public because, again, I didn’t know how I was going to react.