...or the end of Harry Potter.
And I feel fine.
I read the very first Harry Potter book shortly after it came out. My friend Samantha had read it and lent it to me, and I read it, and I wasn't that interested. I passed on the series for quite a while.
Then, my family had to take a trip to Pennsylvania, and I was a moody teenager, I think in my senior year of high school, and all I wanted to do was hang out in our hotel room and sleep. There came a point where I was sick of sleeping, though, and I was bored out of my skull, so I grabbed the only reading material in sight: my sister's copy of The Goblet Of Fire. And I was hooked. "Wait a minute", I thought, "Why didn't I like the first one all those years ago?"
Now that I've read them all (cough*multiple times*), I can easily see that as the story moves forward it becomes more detailed and interesting, and so in hindsight I like the first book just fine, although it's not my favorite.
Anyway, the last three books all came out while I was in college, and for the first two I waited (impatiently) for a roommate or close friend to finish reading the copy she had bought so I could borrow (and devour) it. The last book was pre-ordered on Amazon by our dear Scott as a reward for finishing my very last paper in my very last class so I could actually get a diploma.
Books have always been in my life, and they've always been my escape. Stressed about school? Grab a book. Down about yourself? Grab a book. Life turning into a living hell? Grab two books. ESCAPE.
And this sound incredibly nerdy, but I feel like the characters in my very favorite books are my friends, and I take it very personally when I reach the end of a series and they're gone from my life. The characters in Harry Potter have been close friends for nine years now.
It was sad enough for the last book to come out, and knowing that there weren't going to be any more. I'd laughed and cried and loved and hated along with all these characters, and that was it. I was sad about this, but all good things come to an end (except ice cream; that must NEVER come to an end). But at least they were still making movies, and even though they aren't nearly as good as the books (duh), I still love All Things Potter, so I was still happy.
But when the credits rolled on the very last movie the day before yesterday, I know it was really finished this time. Oh, sadness. And by finished, I mean until Pottermore is open to the public (Google it, if you want to). And maybe someday when I have a zillion extra dollars I'll go to that amusement park that's all HP and stuff.
And I can always read the books again.