Okay, so I’ve had too much coffee to focus on this Good Omens fanfiction that I SUPER NEED TO START ACTUALLY WRITING. COME ON, DANI.
But I got to sleep in this morning, and I am a little wrecked right now, and there’s Oreo creamer in my coffee, so LET’S TALK ABOUT STAR WARS.
Because, honestly, Team? I’m not thrilled at Star Wars right now, and I think you know how much typing that hurts my feeble nerd-heart. I just… Rise of Skywalker makes me angrier the more I think about it. And I still haven’t caught up on The Mandalorian, because, frankly, I’m just too manic right now to focus on watching things at home. And I had a different home when I first started The Mandalorian, so that’s hard too.
Lots of stuff is hard. My heart hurts. My back STILL HURTS. My body and I are at war with one another, and we are also enabling each other so hard. My half marathon training has nearly entirely fallen by the wayside during this period of turmoil, and instead I am out here feeding the soft animal that is me whatever raspberry chocolate coffee concoctions their heart desires. (I desire all of them.)
As always, I picture showing up in Orlando, and being fit and tan and gorgeous and happy for all the pictures that will surely be taken of me. When I’m at the Happiest Place on Earth, I want to look like the Happiest Dani on Earth. Instead I feel squishy and pale and my hair totally sucks right now and I am ashamed of myself for so many things and I still don’t really feel like I deserve this experience, whatever the fuck that means…
But you know what? It’s fucking happening, whether I deserve it or not. So, at this point, I have to just breathe and allow myself to feel happy.
Because a week from Monday… I will be in Galaxy’s Edge. And here’s what I think I hope happens:
I hope that this is when the dam breaks.
I hope that I will cross the threshold from Orlando into Batuu, and I actually hope that I sink to my knees, finally and at last overwhelmed by the weight of everything that has happened recently, but secure in the knowledge that Star Wars will catch me. That Star Wars will still be all the things I love about it even if I am ugly and sad and poor and sloppy and going a little out of my mind. I hope that I pilot the Falcon, and drink Blue Milk, and pay for my brother to build a lightsaber, and I almost hope that I cry the whole time. Because maybe this is finally the place where I feel okay to cry that much.
Because I keep expecting it to happen, but I’m just too tense. Too alert. Too afraid. I cannot let anything go, cannot fall apart, though I am desperate for it. I am so very tired.
To be clear, I also hope that visiting Galaxy’s Edge for the first time is the best day of my life. I have a lot of expectations. (I always do.)
(And it doesn’t matter if I’m cute in the pictures that will be taken. But, also, like, I will be. Because I’m going to be my sunshine-y nerd self, openly weeping or not. Also, I bought these super cute Rebel earrings online today, so, you know.)
Star Wars, you are my forever-Valentine. I cannot wait to visit you. I do not have flowers for you, but I am bringing you my whole, entire, beating heart. You have been careless with it before, my love, I have not forgotten.
I am allowed to be happy.