Today is the day my childhood ends.
Me and my friends from the past will officially finish our stories
together tonight.
I remember staying up late with them, huddled under covers or crammed in my closet, trying to squeeze in as much time as possible before “lights out.”
I remember sitting on my kitchen table screaming my friends’ stories to my mother as she made dinner. Occasionally the tales would get too exciting, and she would stop the production of her meal just to finish their great narratives.
I remember lying out on the beach with these same companions of mine. I would spend hours with them on the sand, in the hot tub, on the balcony before dinner… We didn’t really hang out in the water together – but I would have had that been plausible.
I remember deeply discussing these childhood friends’ sagas with my family and my neighbors. We could talk for hours about why my friends did this or why my friends did that.
I remember rushing to the store to greet my friends. And then, when we got bigger, I remember rushing to the movie theaters to meet them again. Every year we were a little bit older, a little bit wiser. But we always had another year together…
Until now.
Because today is the day I will view my very last Harry Potter movie.
Me and my friends from the past will officially finish our stories
together tonight.
I remember staying up late with them, huddled under covers or crammed in my closet, trying to squeeze in as much time as possible before “lights out.”
I remember sitting on my kitchen table screaming my friends’ stories to my mother as she made dinner. Occasionally the tales would get too exciting, and she would stop the production of her meal just to finish their great narratives.
I remember lying out on the beach with these same companions of mine. I would spend hours with them on the sand, in the hot tub, on the balcony before dinner… We didn’t really hang out in the water together – but I would have had that been plausible.
I remember deeply discussing these childhood friends’ sagas with my family and my neighbors. We could talk for hours about why my friends did this or why my friends did that.
I remember rushing to the store to greet my friends. And then, when we got bigger, I remember rushing to the movie theaters to meet them again. Every year we were a little bit older, a little bit wiser. But we always had another year together…
Until now.
Because today is the day I will view my very last Harry Potter movie.
I know, I know – you can laugh at me. I give you full permission. It’s a little bit odd to love book characters so much, isn’t it?
But the truth is… when Harry Potter was 11, I was 11. When Harry Potter was 14, I was 14. We grew up together! I don’t know all the spells and I would probably fail at intense Harry Potter trivia. Never the less, the series certainly means something to me.
In middle school, my family would sit around the kitchen or gather in bed and read these books aloud. At that age, it was the ONLY book in my recollection we ever read aloud (besides the Bible and The Night Before Christmas, which are two very hefty literary references).
Most of my generation, as well as every other age group, loves these books. The pages are full of adventure, a hint of romance, and provide vast worlds to jump into with an ever-present good vs. evil spin. You get to know the characters as if they were actual pals that age with you over a seven-year timeline. And reading the books as they were released was true excitement.
So today is bittersweet.
I have tickets to see the advanced screening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 in Union Square at 7pm. My roommate scored the passes from work and generously invited me!
That also means my longest running series if officially at its end. Harry, Ron, Hermione and a slew of others will forever part ways with us tonight. That’s a lot for a fan to take in. What if I cry? Dang that’d be embarrassing.
But luckily, my own story will go on, and more great friends shall be found. This epic narrative will not be forgotten, though some celebrated tales have yet to be discovered. My childhood… my last remaining strings of adolescents… might be over.
"But to live will be an awfully great adventure."
But the truth is… when Harry Potter was 11, I was 11. When Harry Potter was 14, I was 14. We grew up together! I don’t know all the spells and I would probably fail at intense Harry Potter trivia. Never the less, the series certainly means something to me.
In middle school, my family would sit around the kitchen or gather in bed and read these books aloud. At that age, it was the ONLY book in my recollection we ever read aloud (besides the Bible and The Night Before Christmas, which are two very hefty literary references).
Most of my generation, as well as every other age group, loves these books. The pages are full of adventure, a hint of romance, and provide vast worlds to jump into with an ever-present good vs. evil spin. You get to know the characters as if they were actual pals that age with you over a seven-year timeline. And reading the books as they were released was true excitement.
So today is bittersweet.
I have tickets to see the advanced screening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 in Union Square at 7pm. My roommate scored the passes from work and generously invited me!
That also means my longest running series if officially at its end. Harry, Ron, Hermione and a slew of others will forever part ways with us tonight. That’s a lot for a fan to take in. What if I cry? Dang that’d be embarrassing.
But luckily, my own story will go on, and more great friends shall be found. This epic narrative will not be forgotten, though some celebrated tales have yet to be discovered. My childhood… my last remaining strings of adolescents… might be over.
"But to live will be an awfully great adventure."
Did I just quote Peter Pan?
Shoot.