The Grief of Living a Brand New Day
I went to see Spider-Man: Brand New Day this past weekend with the kiddo and best friend. I was a MARVEL comic book fan long before the MCU blew into theaters almost 20 years ago. So, my imagination has wandered more than a time or two into the possibilities of what MARVEL could possibly show us. As much as I LOVE some of the arcs created since I was born (and before), I’m not a canon junkie. I like that new perspectives of characters continue to be created to flesh out cinematic entertainment, while still incorporating original pieces to sit front and center and remind us why we love/hate these great works of fiction.
One day I’ll go into detail as to why Spidey and Hulk are my favorite characters and have been since I was an 8-year-old child. Today, we’re talking about the very real grief portrayed in Brand New Day and how it made my eyes release years of stopped tears and made me start hyperventilating a bit as Spidey swung through the rain.
SPOILERS AHEAD
I felt my eyes tighten a bit when Peter enters the home of MJ and Ned. They don’t remember him, but he remembers everything he’s ever known about them. His memory is impeccable to the point that it pains me to see him be in an environment where he’s nothing more than a stranger to them. I felt my chest tighten when he saw MJ kiss her boyfriend because everyone watching knows how much he STILL loves her. My tightened eyes started to loosen a bit as one tear sat on the ledge of my lower lid, threatening to fall but stubbornly clinging on as my body fought the idea that a “silly, little movie” could make me cry. As soon as he started swinging through the rain and remembering MJ, all the tears fell, and it became hard to breathe. I tried to stay quiet because I was sitting next to my daughter, who would immediately think I was crying over fucking Peter.
As the lights fluctuated to highlight Peter’s mental reel, I sniffed a little too loudly, and my daughter turned, eyes widening, and whispered not so quietly, “OH MY GOD! ARE YOU CRYING?! THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE CRYING ABOUT?!”
To be fair, my daughter doesn’t recall ever seeing me cry. She has seen me shed some tears, but she was so young, she doesn’t remember. It isn’t that I’m stopping myself from crying in front of her; most of my dam crying is released when she’s not with me. It isn’t perfect timing; it’s the grief of living every day knowing I cannot change some things because they’re not within my power. The overwhelming moments usually happen when I’m grocery shopping, working, having a tense disagreement, or reading something emotional. My body is doing the normal biological imperative of breathing, but with one deep breath, my body acts on its own, and the uncontrollable tears come. It’s also happened in Pilates class because we do deep breathing, and somatically, I’m a bit of a huge mess.
Brand New Day reminded me of every friend I’ve lost that I loved deeply. Most of those losses weren’t related to any of these people physically dying. Out of all the friends I can count as losses, it’s only been one that died. So, it isn’t abnormal to see some of those people living life without me…whether that be from pictures posted online that float into my feed, things shared by mutuals, or randomly seeing them out as I walk the other way because there’s no reason for our lives to ever intersect again. It isn’t that I can’t access these people… it’s that it isn’t a good idea, whether the reason is from my end or theirs. Much like Peter, my distance is because I MUST accept that our interacting is no longer or the best. It never hurts any less…
…so the hot tears running down my face, soaking the t-shirt covering my heaving chest, reminded me of the loss I still haven’t fully dealt with…again, much like Peter.
When MJ reveals that she saw the letter and read it, we all can see there’s going to be some closure taking place. It doesn’t turn out to be what Peter would prefer, but it does seal the deal on the emotional turmoil of his last 4 years. The thing about closure in real life, though, is that no one can give it to us. I think life can sometimes happen in a way that appears to be kind, and someone definitively stating how they feel so we can appropriately move on from wherever we’re stuck. Rarely has this ever happened to me; instead, most people either choose to table a conversation long enough to transition into disappearing 100% out of my life so they never have to have the tough conversation, slowly fade to black by reducing interaction, or intentionally cause some chaotic bullshit to transpire so they can lean into a reaction instead of on the truth.
So, I learned early on that no matter how much I STILL FELT for anyone, it was my job to give myself the closure to move on. Honestly, I’m not that good at it; I just make sure I’m not in environments where I could potentially see anyone I haven’t mentally given a dirt nap. Grief is not something easily or readily taught; a lot of grieving and mourning is done alone, so we figure out how to live with it alone, too. And Brand New Day was a reminder that I’m still trying to figure out how to live with the loss of people who are still alive. There will always be more tears because I’m human and there’s always going to be another day to live through. It’s my hope that I keep learning to manage it well enough that an acrobatic, white man in red and blue tights, with mutated DNA, can no longer trigger responses to living through my grief.
