*stares blankly at title box* haha

How come I haven't been reading my Harry Potter books lately? There isn't much in the world that can compete with my love for them!!!!!! I haven't picked one up since summer, when I made a half-assed attempt at reading 'Chamber of Secrets' while we were on our way to Toronto. This week, when I finally realized what I had done I found my 'Deathly Hallows' book and opened up to page that i had previously marked (probably 3642642 years ago) and spent a much needed full day laying on my bed reading Harry Potter. I was at the at the part in which Hermione disguises Harry's appearance with a jinx just before the Snatchers kidnap all three of them and take them to Malfoy Manor. Unfortunately, the Snatchers recognize Hermione and find the sword, so the subsequent questioning at Malfoy Manor soon takes a grim turn; Hermione is tortured by Bellatrix, who wants to know how they got the sword. While they are downstairs in the cage, they find themselves with Ollivander the wandmaker and Luna Lovegood the awesome. Harry uses the broken two-way mirror to ask for help, and Dobby appears. When Harry and Dobby disapparate to Shell Cottage, Harry realizes that something is terribly wrong when he sees a dark stain on Dobby's pillowcase.

It was at this point that I started crying. I haven't cried since September. What the Poop? I've had reasons to cry too, but I didn't. It just struck me as odd that I would 'frikin sob' over a fictional character's death (which I have read over 20 times now), when in reality I've had much worse to cry about. Maybe I'm not as tough as I think I am. Maybe I've become immune to disappointment in my own life. Maybe I'm just a huge weirdo that doesn't know what she's talking about.







... this blog post felt so wrong in so many ways. +10 to anyone who gets why