My aunt and cousins came into the mall, and when they spotted me at the kiosk, they asked if I was attending the anticipated Half Blood Prince midnight showing. On learning that I hadn't been able to secure a ticket before they were sold out, my aunt offered me an extra ticket that they had because of a no-show.
As I stood amidst the mob of people waiting for the 12:01 showing, I tried to be as excited as I once was for the release of the next HP movie. While I by no means have stopped caring, and out of the group of us there (though definitely not out of the whole crowd) I had the most random trivia knowledge, I definitely lost the gusto for costumes, scars, and adventure. I found myself less involved in the make believe of the story, and instead evaluated the ways in which movie magic helped drop the audience into the magical diegesis and upheld the emotions of the narrative.
I didn't mourn the feelings I failed to conjure, but instead wondered if I was transferring my interests in a natural, growing up kind of way.
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