This Sally wants her Harry.

The release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince has been delayed from November 2008 to July 2009.

8 months.

I manage to have the worst thought possible. How many people, who were looking forward to the film, will die between November and next July? I know what you’re thinking… and yes, I am a riot at parties.

Six degrees of separation: A law of the universe? Would the Earth turn backwards if we were disconnected from the person next to us on the subway? Hopefully not, since at the moment I feel about 10,000 degrees away from everyone in the universe.

My soul is currently split seven ways.

1.
I want to dance. The kind of dance where you’ve been partying up a storm the whole night, and you’re both gross, sweaty, and sloppy. But you find each other. Your hands find their places, and suddenly the group party falls away and it’s just the two of you. Maybe one of you tries to say something, but the noise carries it away. Thundering loud club music, and yet somehow you’re softly swaying in each other’s arms. Like nature. Like waves to the shore.

2.
I want to hold hands. The kind where the fingers lock. So innocent, yet oddly saucy, happening secretly in the dark of a movie theatre, or a club, or some campus walkway at night… No one is around to witness it. Who grabbed whose? Can’t remember. It happens with neither of you mentioning it before, during…. or after.

3.
I want eye contact. The kind of moment where I want to ask what the eyes are saying. And they answer me wordlessly.

4.
I want to be hugged. There were times when I felt so bitter about being hugged. When I felt so upset, so angry… and suddenly I was being hugged. I didn’t hug back, and all I could think was how mad I was that they had the nerve to think that this stupid hug was going to make me feel any better. They are just arms, and cruel people have arms too. But right now I want a hug. I want to be on that selfish receiving end… where I can weep, and keep my arms at my side …and still they continue to hold me, trying to blanket the fire.

5.
I want a kiss on the shoulder blade. It sort of always sneaks up on you. Since, I am rarely looking at my shoulder blades.

6.
I want a hand to brush the hair out of my eyes. Even if it isn’t really all that much in them.

7.
I want to be in the same room as someone who cares about me. Between four walls, zero degrees of separation, sharing the air, and the universe with someone else.

Because when the world starts to spin backwards, when I’m not in the room with someone who cares… I start to think about the one who doesn’t. And then I think of our first dance, and his hands and eyes; I think about the Xs and the Os. I think about the drunk nights, the sober mornings. I think about my dad waiting with a shotgun, and then passing him the keys to his car. I think about all the time spent…

And I wonder how substantial a difference 8 months really makes.

Signed,
Desiree Thrash

If I were a screenplay revision colour, I would be… Buff.