Bittersweet

ast night, or should I say this morning, I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 at the midnight premiere. I teared up during parts of the movie, but I didn't just openly weep like a lot of people in the theater.

But when I got home, Grant asked me how I liked it, and I started to cry. And now as I write this I'm getting emotional again. I don't know exactly how to express my feelings right now. For the last 10 years of my life, I always had something Harry Potter oriented to look forward to, and now all that's left is Pottermore. I was always just around Harry's age when each book came out, so I understood his world so perfectly.

It was the summer before 7th grade when I met Harry. It was 1999 and I was 12. I was in the Edmond Public Library with my mom looking for something fun to read. She told me I should read these new books she heard about about some boy named Harry who lived in England and was a wizard.

I remember looking right at her and saying, "Why would I ever read a book about some British boy named Harry? That's like the stupidest name ever. It sounds dumb."

She went on and on about how it was on the best seller list and she knew I would like it. I had always been a fan of fantasy books and she didn't understand why I was fighting her so hard. Then she proceeded to tell me that a family friend had already bought me the first two.

I didn't get anything from the library that day. But I borrowed some books from my neighbor. Shortly after our library visit we made a road trip from Oklahoma to New York and New Jersey to visit our family. I brought my borrowed book that I had almost finished with me and those lame Harry Potter books just in case I had more time.

I finished that borrowed book quickly. I remember laying in the back seat in my mom's 1990 caravan finally giving in and deciding to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. After one little 17 page chapter I was hooked. I stayed up almost the entire 24 hour car ride reading about Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Soon I moved on to his second year. My grandparents hardly saw me that first week. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger had become my life.

Luckily the third book came out that summer, very soon after I had finished the second one. For Christmas I got collectors editions. I reread them over and over and over. I made my mom and grandma take me to the midnight release for the next book. By then the whole world had fallen in love with Harry. How could you not?

I remember reading Fahrenheit 451 in 8th grade, you know, the book about how books are banned and burned in the future, and thinking that somehow I would save my Harry Potter books if that were to actually happen. My little 13-year-old brain couldn't process not having them.

I could go on and on and on about my love for Harry. I have special bookends that my hardback editions sit in. I have every book in paperback. I have every book on audio CD. I have all the movies. I have countless t-shirts and accessories. I bought an annual pass to Universal Studios just for The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

Thank you, Mom, for making me read something you knew I would love. Thank you, J.K. Rowling, for creating such a wonderful world with such beautiful and real characters. Thank you, Harry for being in my life.

I will never ever forget you, Harry.

“Always have a vivid imagination, for you never know when you might need it." - J.K. Rowling