Don't follow, please

Scott Bentley.

You're the strangest character I've ever written. I sometimes wonder which of us is holding the mirror, if you're the one that's sympathetic, and I'm just the hollow reflection.

Lately that's about all I've been feeling. I keep writing and writing, and page by page, your world comes alive. The people you know. The friends you have. Your heart alive with emotions, worries, fears, and jubilation.

I'm quickly becoming just a machine, rapping this story out. Nothing I've done seems to have been of any meaning, of any consequence. Every tiny change I've tried to affect has been a nothing-moment. A blank instance of lacking.

One by one, my ties are cut. Frayed, or severed. It doesn't really matter, as this is about the time when everyone goes about their own ways. Tired of each other. Tired of me.

Scott Bentley. Let's finish your story. So that I might start mine.