Due to the release of Harry Potter 7-2 during my pregnancy month 7, week 2, I have cause to reflect on something that has always pestered me: change. As long as I can remember, I have had ridiculous anxiety over the idea of changes: my first year of middle school proved to be stress-ridden (for both me and my mother), my switchover to high school left a pit in my stomach, and the transition into college was rough to say the least.
In conjunction with my aversion to change, I also have an issue with things ending. However, this feeling is more complicated. I love the feeling of completion, yet hate the feeling of ending. I was excited to complete my high school career, but devastated that the particular chapter of my life had close. I love completing the reading of a book, but sad to see the story end.
Of course, we all know what today is: the release of the final Harry Potter film. Thinking about this gives me a slight bit of anxiety. I have anxiously awaited the arrival of each book and subsequent film. Each time a story ended, I was anxious to find out what would happen in the next one (much like the feeling that always seems to arise at the end of an episode of 24 – except the next book would be absolutely lovely and satisfying, unlike that let down that accompanies the 24 episodes). Each film ending made me anticipate the release of the next.
Yet now, the end will actually be the end. We’ve grown up with Harry Potter and crew. Remember when they were all just wee children? And the first Harry Potter movie was so much lighter, and it feels younger… because we were younger as well.
Little did we know back then that one day, Daniel Radcliffe would show off his goods. That
Emma Watson would become a lovely style icon. That Tom Felton would turn out to be quite the looker.That Richard Harris would not be with us through more than two films.
And now, it will all come to a close.
Naturally, the release of this movie snuck up on me (since with my current state of anxiety, this isn’t difficult to do). I haven’t even purchased tickets to see it, let alone decided on a date to see it. I feel like after all the years of anticipation and excitement, my current level of excitement is much to lackluster to merit the viewing of this film. In addition, I’m not quite sure I’m ready for this saga to end.
Now what will I obsess over and anticipate and get excited about? I didn’t even make plans to dress up (Snape was my choice since I think he is the unsung hero of the series – and since I look just like him if I skip washing my hair for a few days). How can I let this opportunity slip away? What will I now find as a new obsession?
Of course, my current state of elf-growing is also a cause to shudder at the thought of change and ending. All I can think of is the countdown until Brad gets home and then the countdown until the baby is out of my belly and then the countdown until I’ve recovered from the removal of said baby and then the countdown until I can start working out/eating less/getting rid of the extra baggage I am now so blessed to carry around. Unfortunately, I can’t just be satisfied with the completion of these waiting periods since I have made lengthy to-do lists that are not even a fraction of the way completed (isn’t that the way I go through life?). All I can think of is a wish for more time to accomplish the aforementioned tasks. But then my waiting becomes longer. But my wait time/project accomplishing window will end. And things will change. And new things will begin.
Although I don’t love my current state of semi-singleness, nor my state of impregnated-ness, I also don’t love the idea of it ending prior to my checklist being properly checked off. And isn’t it so sad that I spend my days counting down until the completion of something only to find that it has ended and I missed it and now I have to change and it will never be the same?
It’s like my little brother. I remember him as a baby. And a toddler. And how he’d open the door to my room at night when he was scared. I’d wake up to the silent sound of the door being opened. I’d pull out the trundle and let him sleep there. When he was 7, I left for college. And sometime since then, he blew up into this giant person.
Seriously?! When/how did that happen?! And now I’m going to have my own little baby. And knowing my luck, I’ll blink, and the baby will have grown into a giant person, just like my brother did. And because I’ve spent my time in countdowns and completions and avoiding change, I’ll miss the entire thing. And just like Harry Potter, it will sneak up on me without the proper amounts of excitement and anticipation.