Friday, July 15, 2011

My relationship with Harry Potter OR It's all over


*Before you pass judgement or decide to call me out on my sin of liking J.K. Rowling's works, hear me out. I love the books and the movies. If you are just going to condemn me or nitpick, don't bother. I don't care.*

In 1997 the first Harry Potter Book came out. I was in middle school. I remember the first time I heard of HP. I was in 7th grade and our Math teacher was trying to find something to fill time for the class (I think we had all finished a test early or something), and a classmate pulled out his copy of Sorcerer's Stone for her to read. After the first few moments of the book had been read, I wanted to continue the story. The problem was I lived in a household that did not approve of such literature. Books about witchcraft weren't the sort of thing a christian family allowed into their household. SO, I read the book at school, in the library. 
Later on in the year (It may have even been my 8th grade year), I finally broke down and started talking with mom on the subject of Harry Potter and his life. Mom agreed to allowing me to read the stories only if she read them with me. That winter started something major in the Maynard household- we became hooked. We took to taking turns reading chapters to each other, Junia included. We even got the books on tape so we could listen to them throughout the day. We went to each release party the local Wal-mart had when each of the books came out. We watched all of the movies, and then later owned them. All of this continued for years until the final book came out. I remember reading the last chapter of the seventh book, closing the back cover late at night, and bawling that it was over. After that, I decided to keep my chin up since I still had the final movies to watch. 
...
And then there was yesterday. I woke up almost 24 hours ago and got ready for work, knowing I was about to finish something that started over 10 years ago. When we sat down in the theatre and began to watch the movie, I almost couldn't breathe. Things I read a few years ago came flooding back. The story line, the characters, the twists and surprises, everything. Then.... credits. It was over. A piece of my childhood, something that has stretched across my life, was completely. Over. When we walked out of the theatre and to the car, I bawled again. These stories. Sure, they were fiction, but I connected with them and the characters. I cried and laughed for them. I stayed up til the wee hours because I couldn't stop turning the pages. These stories were a huge part of my life. And now they are complete. And I am so sad. And exhausted from lack of sleep and crying. lol, I felt like a dork for crying, but I'll stand by it. This was a wonderful part of my younger life and I will always be grateful to J.K. Rowling for giving me and rest of the world such a wonderful gift. 

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