In exactly 1 week, I will be watching, for the last time in a cinema, a Harry Potter film. I don’t know what to do, really. There would be times that I would watch their last day of shooting and cry so hard it would hurt.

Harry Potter kind of saved my life. I remember in elementary, people wouldn’t talk to me and as much as I wanted to make friends, they left me alone. So I read, and pretended that Harry, Ron and Hermione were my friends. I never felt alone.

High school came along, and I was being bullied the time Deathly Hallows came out. We had school that day, so I woke up early, went  to Greenhills before 7, got my book and went to school. I talked to no one that day. I did not listen to any lecture, I just read. I heard nothing of what they were saying about me, even though I can make out their taunting tone. Harry helped me. I thought that if I could just do this for the rest of my life, I mean focus my attention on something that actually matters to me, then everything would be okay. It would all be okay. I remember when I got to Chapter 33, it was 30 minutes to dismissal time. I couldn’t contain my pain, so I shut the book. I made a loud noise, so everyone looked at me. I didn’t care. I just read the most important chapter ever written in the history of chapters, and I couldn’t care less what any asshole thought of me. It was that simple.

Now, 1 week to the last film, I don’t know what to do. I would freak out at random times. I would suddenly see Snape in my head and scream “OH GOD” and start bawling. I am going to miss this.

The books and the films will always be there. But the waiting? that’s the best part. The speculating, wondering if the scenes would look like the ones in your imagination. Best.

I can’t imagine being born in 2014 and only discovering Harry Potter then. The experience wouldn’t be the same.

All was well.



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2 responses to “Always

  1. I cried a lot yesterday. I couldn’t explain why, why I felt these feelings. Today during Audit lecture, I talked to my classmate about how I slept at seven in the morning just to finish the rebroadcast on YouTube. Never having read Harry Potter, she commented the fandom must be a big deal as it drew massive revenue at the box office throughout the years. It is much much more than WB raking in the $$!! Her statement couldn’t be more deficient.

    Whenever the subject of Harry Potter comes up between me and a non-reader, I try not to elaborate. I stop myself because I couldn’t decide what to say. What aspect of my love for the series do I highlight? I can’t choose, and if I told her everything I could, no matter how much it is, there will always be something I should’ve said. I can give her a thorough list of points, an essay that will be lengthy and challenging to write, a clever infograph, a long line of links and references and cool paraphernalia–these will always be not enough to fully capture what Harry Potter is to me. All efforts will be futile. I don’t try to do it. I only discuss it with my fellow Potterheads who easily understand and follow my thought-vomits. Talking with them is easier because I don’t feel like I have to transfer a lot of thoughts & feelings for what I’m saying to be relevant. We’re on the same level of thinking, ganun. We appreciate the genius together, and it ends up an awfully satisfying conversation every time. 🙂

    What I do is just encourage non-readers to experience Harry Potter for themselves. It will be fortunate if they become familiar enough with it. Best case scenario, they’ll have the same level of understanding and love* that I have, that my friends and I share.

    I know it gets annoying when fans act batshit insane and hard-core. The shipping, the incessant thousand-note entries about the pettiest HP-related things, the ka-OA-an, the floods, the overuse of GIFs, etc. It comes with the territory. Hey, we’re all mad here. We all get those random HP moments & epiphanies.

    Before I close this long-ass comment of mine (I SHOULD GET MY OWN BLOG & STOP BLOGGING AT YOURS JESUS CHRIST WITH A FIRECRACKER), I sort of comprehended a bit of my emotional-over-spill yesterday. That is: I don’t know what else there is to my crying, but I feel happy and very grateful that I am a part of this. It connected me to the people I now hold dear, and more importantly, to myself. 🙂 That is very important especially to kids whose identities are only starting to be molded. And, it’s true what you said about books being your means to “connect” while in solitude. Basta, it wouldn’t be the same without it, seven hells sort of difference!

    *LOVE, often times mindless and obsessive love, passionate love, escape-from-the-world-nothing-else-matters love, everything-is-HP-and-nothing-hurts love, I’m-crying-at-3-AM-IDK-why love, I ache so much why?? love


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