There is not a ”the end” to a story.
It’s just that the rest was never written down.

It's funny,
how when you read something
and realize that it basically
describes you and is talking
about you
and that there is a person
out there who relates to you,
and yet you still manage
to find a way to convince
yourself that no one
understands you
and you're just being dramatic.
Because this isn't fiction.
It's reality.
But apparently they're pretty similar
Sometimes.