I read Call Me by Your Name recently and it is simultaneously hard to talk about and impossible to stop thinking about. It cut like a knife.
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I can relate profoundly to its evocation of deep, deep longing, but my longing has always been mine and mine alone.
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Anyway, I am thoroughly looking forward to being destroyed by the film.
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I'm already the age the novel's characters are when they are "older" and looking back. But that part of my life still hasn't started.
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