Transcript Dear Jessica,
You’ve asked me to stop writing these letters. You’ve told me they will never change things between us. But I can’t, Jessica. I can’t just… let you go. Even Darth Vader, an evil Sith lord, couldn’t leave his son to die at the end of “Return of the Jedi”.
You make me feel so safe, Jessica. So warm. I want to crawl up inside you. Like Luke Skywalker crawled up inside his tauntaun to protect himself from the sub-zero temperatures of Hoth, where the Rebel Alliance was hiding from the Galactic Empire.
For you, Jessica, I would dive into the Sarlacc Pit of Tatooine (Luke's home planet) and be slowly digested for a thousand years, like the bounty hunter Bobba Fett. (Even though in the Expanded Universe of the "Star Wars" novels, Fett eventually escapes, which creator George Lucas has accepted as official S-Dub cannon. But my simile still stands.)
Please, Jessica, give you and me a try - or as wise Jedi once said, "Try not...Do, or do not. There is no try." Come on, Jessica. Let's "do" it. Let's French.
Then again, maybe you're right. Maybe we're from different galaxies, far far away from one another. Maybe you're "not the droid" I'm looking for, and I should give up and "move along"...with my heart.
May the Force be with You,
Patrick (3rd row, History)