Saw a really lovely production of what used to be "Torch Song Trilogy" and now with a 2017 rewrite by the author is simply "Torch Song."

Much to say, but it's late so I'll just note this:

I quite suddenly realized toward the end that a lot of people were sniffling and crying, and I should have been right there with them.

Because I love this play.  I grew up with this play.  I saw the movie in grad school.  I own the soundtrack.  And this was a very good production of a very good script.

And weirdly, I wasn't crying.

Is it because my brain knew very clearly it was fictional?  That hasn't exactly stopped me before.

Am I all cried out about gay stuff in particular or life in general?

Or maybe I was just sitting there thinking, "Well, he has a career, a nice apartment, a kid he's going to adopt, a cute guy who loves him, and a mother who's still alive - he's grieving a dead husband, but he'll be ok."

Odd the way my brain is processing this particular story I'm so fond of in this particular moment.

A conundrum to sleep on...