I couldn't believe my eyes. It had to be wrong. It HAD to be. I read through the rest of the book sobbing my poor little heart out. At times I had to stop reading because my eyes were blurred by tears. I can't believe I let fiction affect me this much. I guess it's because a good writer lets me know the characters. A book isn't like an old friend, but the people in them are. Thanks to Rowling I have made many friends and enemies over the last few years. And now? I just watched one of them, the most steadfast and wise of them, die at the hands of someone he trusted. Of course I cried. And then I called my mom.
She didn't want to hear about it as she hadn't started the book yet. Oh who was there to save me? I wanted a boy. Boys are always better when I am crying. Not in any romantic sense. Girls exude empathy, while boys give off strength. While girls say they understand and love you, boys can claim that nothing like this will ever happen again. Both are important in life. But just then I wanted to call my dad, tell him what happened and be held. Unfortunately that option was not available. I miss Ted, Bryan and Matt who served in the capacity of friend to me, to whom I could go crying. I wanted to call any guy I knew. And then it occurred to me: Jason, my brother.
Perhaps it is odd that I had forgotten Jason, someone I have known for twenty years. But Jason has never operated in that capacity for me. I don't call him first with news, good or bad, I don't hang out without invitation. It's so odd. Hopefully that is changing. I called him for solace yesterday, but he had two-hundred pages left to read. That wonderful soul quickly did so and called me back and eased my troubled mind. Boys are just great.
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