I am such a battered wife for Star Wars. No matter how badly and how often he hurts me, I can't help but remember the good times and fool myself that he wasn't always like this. That when it's just us two he's very sweet and caring. Sure, sometimes he flies off the handle, but that's just the midichlorians talking. It's not him. Not the real him. Star Wars doesn't mean it. He still loves me, I know it.
To prove my point, I present that I got all kinds of giddy over this news item, despite all sense dictating that this will eventually and undoubtedly break my poor little heart into tiny bits of sadness and denial. Did I learn nothing from the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles?
He still loves me. I know it. It's just a rough patch. Every relationship has rough patches, right? Right?
1 comment:
We are, of course, married to the same man. It's sad because in my college english classes i still make daily references to Star Wars. Daily! People are starting to look at funny.
I compared Darth Vader to Oedipus and Chancellor Palpatine to Elizabethan poet Edmund Spenser.
How big of freaks are we?
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