Glee Breaks Our Hearts—But in a Good Way?
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Okay, so unless you live under a rock with no TV or internetz, you probably know that last night’s episode of Glee was among the gayest yet—which, after almost two years of Beyoncé-dancin’ football players, PFLAG father-son moments, Brittana scissoring and Jane Lynch, is really saying something. Our favorite sexually fluid cheerleading couple, Brittany & Santana (who have never actually been girlfriends, though they never stop scissoring, and who are also no longer cheerleaders) have finally had a real conversation about their relationship, and it was deep and honest and confusing for both of them, and left every queer girl in America brokenhearted when Brittany chose Artie over Santana at the end of the episode.
I’m not going to rehash everything that happened in the episode here, because our friends over at AfterEllen already do a bang-up job in that department. What I’m most curious about now is people’s reactions to this storyline. Remember when the dude with the Muslim-sounding name ran for president, and we all snorted and rolled our eyes at the idea that America was anywhere near ready to elect someone with the middle name “Hussein” to the White House? Sometimes it’s nice to be proven wrong.
I was similarly pessimistic last night about the reactions I expected of the Glee-lovin’ queer public to the less-than-perfect ending to the Brittana storyline at this particular juncture. I thought the hate-tweets would be pouring in, particularly on Brad Falchuk, who was the one to tweet the promise of “Brittana is on” for this episode back in January. I thought there would be pitchforks and angry tweet mobs. But I was completely wrong.
It seems that, even though Brittany & Santana didn’t end the episode in each other’s arms, the people liked it. They really, really liked it. And let me be clear—I liked it too, even though it completely broke my heart to see Santana finally lay her heart on the line for Brittany, and not get the girl. I liked it because it was honest and real and tender, and even though we didn’t get the happy ending (yet), we didn’t get any more bodies piled onto the ol’ evil/dead lesbian cliché, either. Like one insightful tweeter so eloquently put it, it “made me cry good.”