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.