A few moments ago I was telling my wife about how I’d posted my favorite picture of Carrie a couple of weeks ago (on here, in another thread) and how I’d mentioned that, as a young man back then, I thought she was so beautiful and so perfect. As I was talking to her just now, I felt my throat tighten as I struggle with this.
I’m much more bothered by this than I expected or realized. I just saw her in Rogue One yesterday. I saw my princess from 1977 again. This is a bad day.