May 18, 2005
Michele: Worst. Breakup. Ever.
Every time Lizzie closed her eyes, the scene played out on the back of her eyelids like some cheap horror movie. The terrible cry of her own voice - “Nooooooooooooo!”- reverberated in her head in a long, slow drawl.
She had a burning hole inside her, something that felt like emptiness. Occasionally it would fill with vomit and she’d spill it onto the cold tile floor. Still she laid there, throat burning, hearing his angry threat echo in her head, “I’ll do it....”
Laughing maniacally, smiling, he ripped open the packaging of her original Kenner Han Solo figure.
I gave in to the hype. It started with a free trailer. Then it moved to articles. Then it moved to blogs. The internet was my syringe. Star Wars the drug. Apparently blogs were to powerful a drug for this fragile body. I started to loose it. At one point I thought of dressing as Jar Jar Binks and going to the opener. That was when I realized things were out of control. I needed to be alone. No clothes to dress up with. I needed somewhere cold. I needed somewhere far far away from the internet and Star Wars.