To some, this post will be somewhere between silly and absurd. To the others, you know EXACTLY how I feel. Sorry to the first batch...
I finished reading the final Harry Potter book last night. I'm a little sad, a little in shock... I started reading the books early in 2001. I mourn the characters fallen in the books as much as I mourn the end; there will be no more books. I guess I've always known it has to end, but it has been such a huge part of escaping reality (I have read them over and over... I wanted to name my son Harry, for Pete's sake). Today I am wearing a black shirt for my beloved Harry Potter books.
I enjoyed the wild roller coaster of emotions Rowling put me through (the final book as much as the others). It ended bittersweet for me. This final book had me in tears more than once. At one point, Christian came into the bedroom and sat holding me as I went through a very upsetting chapter. I wanted to stop so many times for fear of what the end would hold.
I guess there is only one thing left to do. Start reading book1 page 1 tonight. Knowing the end will make the re-read more emotional than in the past.... but it's something I feel compelled to do.
Thank you Joanne Rowling. You created a magical world that will live on forever.