I discovered I had to break through this odd feeling that I was writing the ending to someone else's story. Reading something I wrote so long ago gives me that feeling, like I wrote it in my sleep and don't remember. I remember wanting to write the story and all that, but the words themselves, the phrases, feel like they were written by somebody pretending to be me.
Then I got over it.
It's a long day tomorrow, so Happy Easter everyone!
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