by Cláudio Alves

Before writing this piece, the last time I'd watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was with my now ex-boyfriend. We were at his home, enjoying what was, by then, a rare respite, a valley of peace between mountains of quarrel. I had gained a habit of showing him my favorite films, sharing those beloved treasures with someone I loved, maybe looking for a different way for him to know me. This Michel Gondry surrealistic comedy was one of the few pictures we both seemed to adore, and I remember how, drunk with affection, I swore to never forget him. Even if things ended badly – which they did – the promise was made that I'd never wish to erase him from my memory, from my life. Regardless of the hurt we brought each other, I still think that. What we shared is now an integral part of me and that won't ever change.

The people we share our lives with become pieces in the puzzle of our identity. To love is to reshape that puzzle, pain, and euphoria slotted together. I tell you this because it's impossible for me to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Jim Carrey's performance, without projecting meanings born out of love lost…