*Sigh.* Ruthlessly, your scenario is thoroughly conceptualized and well written and brilliantly presented. But -- no surprise -- I disagree with a lot of it. Where to start? We're juggling so many assertions, and they're easier to take on one at a time, like bad guys in a cheesy fight scene. Pradoxically, much of my resistance really can be condensed into a few big disagreements. But they're the ones that tend to define a viewer's subjective interpretation of the entire movie.
And subjectivity ... well, that's another one of my problems. I've only seen the movie 15 times, which I know is measly by some standards

, but it's enough for me to have formed some fairly solid and cherished opinions. If we'd discussed this over coffee after the movie the first night I saw it ... But now, after countless hours spent here, formulating and defending my views, they're so established I can't see myself overhauling them.
But why should I overhaul them? They're my opinions, so I must have an airtight basis for them, hunh?
Well, um, yeah. Still, I'm not sure I can defend all of them with the steeltrap logic that you deploy, Ruthlessly, to support your theory. I, too, like using rational analysis and empirical evidence, not whims and emotional preferences. But I'm not sure I can marshall logic and evidence to support every belief. In so many instances I can imagine counterarguments that might seem to topple mine. I can already hear myself going, "But ... but ..."
So I'm afraid in the end I'll wind up making the kind of argument that I sometimes see other people make. They'll say they believe something just because they like to believe it, because they've grown to love Jack and Ennis a particular way and can't bear to cast them in an unfamiliar light. When I encounter that response, I often sort of roll my eyes and think that if I apply my searing logic they'll change their minds. And sometimes they actually do. But now that I am experiencing it from the other side, I find that sometimes you just want to believe something, even if you can't present unimpeachable evidence. (Great. So I'm abandoning the rationalism that I've upheld my entire life. I feel like one of those people standing on my doorstep with tracts. Next thing you know I'll be joining a cult. Or wait ...
am I in one already?)
Anyway, here are some of my points of disagreement (I see they almost all pertain to Ennis -- 2:30 a.m. and I haven't even gotten to Jack! Also, my tenses switch back and forth from past to present, sorry, I usually try to fix that, but I'm not this time). Many of these are points I've made before -- either with you, Ruthlessly, or with others -- so I can anticipate some of the counterarguments that people might make. I've conveniently included a few of them here (they're not necessarily Ruthlessly's, just ones I've seen a lot). Anyway, feel free to reject either my views or the counterarguments or both -- or to overhaul your own views, once confronted by my searing airtight logic!

Ennis certainly loved Jack, but he did not recognize it as “love,” he certainly did not accept it
He'd have to be a zombie (as MIkaela once beautifully put it) not to notice he was in love with Jack, even if he didn't call it that. First, he suffered for it constantly for four years. When Jack returned he could hardly believe his luck and happiness. Ennis risked all on that reunion kiss, showed in the motel scene how much he's thought about Jack, more or less told Jack he loved him. (People don't send up prayers of thanks for
"fun.") Whenever he saw Jack, even in the otherwise awkward post-divorce scene, he always looked thrilled. There's no reason to believe he didn't long for Jack between rendezvous. Just because he didn't respond to "I miss you so much ..." doesn't mean he doesn't know that feeling. I believe he expressed it in ways both he and Jack understood. From a storytelling perspective, TS3 is not nothin. It's low-key, sure, but it's there for a reason, especially coming immediately after that unanswered last line. (Anticipated counterargument: You don't understand how deep some people's denial can go. Me: Maybe. It's true that my knowledge of human nature does not accomodate a situation in which the person is in total denial -- yet often behaves as if he were in total acceptance. In other words, if he couldn't acknowledge that he "whatevered" Jack, he couldn't also put on his best shirt and sit for hours with his face up to the window, struggling with nervousness and doubt, waiting for Jack to drive up. He would go about his chores or whatever, trying to behave in a way that matched what he was trying to get himself to believe.)
Ennis broke down and blamed Jack for being the way he was
He was lashing out, no more sincere at the lake than he was in the parallel scene when he punched Jack, an act he regretted for the next four f'in years.
after their initial time on the mountain ended. He was retching and this turned into anger.
He was retching mostly from heartbreak. Yes, he also seemed angry, partly at himself -- that was frustration. He had let the love of his life drive away and hadn't stopped him and felt helpless to fix the situation.
But it was not in Ennis’ character to allow deep-down feelings to rise to the surface and for him to admit them
I think he does admit them but hides them from others. He tries to hide them from himself, too, but never with complete success.
In his truest moment of self-realization and openness, told Jack that “I’m nothin’. I’m nowhere.”
He has probably thought so for years. But he doesn't literally hold Jack responsible for his N/N status. He recognizes that he's N/N because of the situation. Which, BTW, does not mean he
really wants Jack to leave him be, even though he says that, too.
Jack suddenly sees Ennis in a different light. ... Ennis has never come to terms with his love or with their relationship or with himself, for that matter.
Jack knows Ennis isn't sincere. It's true that Ennis never has been able to reconcile those two warring feelings: I love a man; it's bad to be queer. They've been fighting each other in his mind for 20 years. Neither feeling has won (if it had, the stalemate would have ended), because Ennis believes he can't fix it and so struggles valiantly to stand it. It's not easy. It causes huge stress. So now he realizes that, in fact, he
can't stand it.
If he can't stand it, is he going to
escape it ... or
fix it? For those who favor interpretations offering consistency and theme-building, which of these corollaries best fits Ennis' famous motto?
Jack also knows that the “quit” pain will ultimately be less disastrous to the man he loves (Ennis) than the “continue” pain is causing him.
Well, I don't think so myself, and I don't know Ennis as well as Jack does. When did he seem more unhappy: riding horses with Jack, even in that glum scene, or saying "Jack, I swear"? If Jack does think Ennis would be better off without him, he's wrong. Even in the long term. Much of the sadness of the ending rests on our understanding of how miserable Ennis will be for the rest of his life -- because he's without Jack. (Anticipated counterargument: But that's after he learns his lesson. Me: No, he'd be miserable if he lost Jack at any point in the story. The fact that he's learned something by then only makes it more poignant and ironic.)
Ennis can cope with rejection and abandonment ... But he cannot deal with his inner struggles – at least not this one. It’s just not his character.
How do we know this? Again, these are both big parts of his character. (Anticipated counterargument: because if the big problem were abandonment, it wouldn't fit the theme of the movie. Me: But does every damn thing have to adhere that closely to the presumed theme? I think we get the message bout the destructive effects of rural homophobia, in any case.)
Ennis loved Jack. But on the surface ... it was all just fun
It wasn't all that fun for Ennis. He took what for him were huge risks, lost jobs, lost his wife, battled his own cognitive dissonance -- even, potentially, risked a horrible death -- in order to be with Jack. It wasn't a day at the beach. But he did it because, no matter what, he wanted to be with Jack. A couple of HAFs a year wouldn't have been worth all this. And while we're on that subject, why do we assume he can shrug off HAFs in convincing himself he ain't queer (which in my view he doesn't believe anyway)? To me, that seems like it would fit right into the definition. (Anticipated counterargument: But you don't understand how people can -- Me: Oh, well, maybe. I don't know. Never mind.)
– it was a “thing” that grabbed him – at least, this is how Ennis rationalized it to himself.
It wasn't a matter of rationalizing, but being reluctant to put the L-word to it. But that he knew that it "grabbed" him -- was uncontrollable -- shows that he recognized how deep and powerful it was. Fun doesn't grab you at the wrong place, wrong time. Fun does, in fact, usually have reins on it. You don't ride fun as long as you can ride it, you ride it until it's no longer fun. Looks to me like at the end, it wasn't fun at all, yet Ennis was still ridin it. (Anticipated counterargument: What about Cassie's remark? Me: It's the "love" that triggered Ennis' epiphany, not the "fun." Anticipated counterargument to that: OK, but then same thing -- Ennis suddenly realized it was "love" with Jack. Me: Um, yeah. I agree that he had an epiphany, but I haven't totally figured out what it was. Maybe it was that love isn't always fun -- in fact, it's often not -- but it's worth honoring anyway?)
He didn’t send a postcard saying “OK, let’s set up housekeepin’ together.” It was just another invite
True, the words on the card weren't unusual. But we know Ennis is a man of few words even orally, let alone in writing. How much of his heart is he going to pour out on a postcard sent through his small-town post office?
Ennis says “Now this Kurt fella… he loves you?” This signals to us that Ennis has made the connection that Jack loved Ennis
This signals to me that Ennis has realized that love is more important than all other considerations (such as what kind of a guy Kurt is, or how she met him ... etc.). The lesson Ennis has learned is that he should not have put anything ahead of his love for Jack.