That's brilliant.

    I'm officially done harry potter.  Done, finito, over with.  And I believe there are two ways I could go about this.

    I could, and have considered crying.  Because the me that was in forth grade, the girl with the awkward hair and earphones on all the time.  The kid who was obsessed with harry potter and couldn't handle anything in the real world, is dead.  Truthfully she's been dead a long time.  Not completely dead of course, part of me still laughs uncontrollably at jim dale's voice of Ms.Weasley and I think I'm just as awkward, if not more so at fifteen than I was at ten, my hair is just nicer(though the bleach is growing out).  I'm sad because when I did nothing but listen to harry potter I was much more innocent.  That was and is my coping mechanism.  Just tune things out, they'll go away.  My mom's deppression, my brother's unhappiness in school, my being in the worst class, not having very many friends.  Tune them out, they'll go away.  I think I'll keep that part of me forever which is why I'm not crying while I write this.

    I'm happy.  I got to have the excitement of waiting for the next book, the next movie.  I got to discuss theories with my family and my friends.  I'm ecstatic that I've been able to learn things from a book that is as crazy as Harry Potter.  I got to relate to harry.  A year after the book where one of Harry's friends died was published my grandmother died.  I got to talk to my swim coach about horcruxes.  I'm happy.

Really.