Have you just blankly opened this book wanting to read about me? I have only just made it to this point, I might be killed off in the subsequent pages. While I have taken up hours from of your time, wanting to help you imagine more, beyond what you know now; I may also not be the person you like here. Everything here is about me. And you have to learn, and read. How long have you waited for me? How long have you waited for a character that speaks to you? If you like me would you try and find me?
I am speaking to you right now, because I know you. I know your wants and needs. You don’t care for my adventures put down in words neither do you care for the people I’ve met through all of these chapters. You care for what I find within. You want to find it within yourself. You trace your fingers around all the important words, contexts, paragraphs unable to find that one connector word. You know you have the puzzle, but are unable to solve it. You held hands with me and we jumped into this story together. Slowly as it unfolded, you decided that you didn’t want to be part of it, that you were merely a reader wanting to picturise every scene that was taking shape in front of you. But you’re into it now, my tears are your tears, my heartbreaks, yours. Beyond this world you’re slowly stepping into, you leave your own. My story consumes you but you’re only human. Why are you turning the pages like you’ll find a different story? You can stop now. Let this make you go breathless. Let this be a part of you, a story that defines your way of living. I like that you fantasize about me, about how words can only describe the parts of me that your eyes will never be able to see. You know I would like it too. The feel of your breath in my ears while you read this out to me. But I’m not part of you, I am only someone else’s imagination put down to words. With every line that you read, you lose me further into the distance. After you turn the last blank page, you will be left with an end. The end of a feeling a tug, the end of a story that you looked forward to. As I slip through this epilogue, I wanted to whisper to you that I fell in love with the idea of you.


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