He told me not to go on. He begged me to stop, to close the book, to be happy with the journey he had taken me on, to be content with the ending as it was. He told me I’d be heartbroken if I went on. He told me there was no happily ever after. Just. Close the book.
And I considered doing just that. I had come this far with them, those characters whose defeats and victories I had felt so keenly. We had reached the end, now it was time to say goodbye. But, I couldn’t. There was more. To close the book, to stop, would have been like stopping at page 445. “The noises from behind the doors were louder, however, and as they passed one, something on the other side thumped it hard enough to make it shudder in it’s frame. Oy barked at it, laying his ears back against his skull, and Susannah voiced a little scream…”
Could I have stopped there? Even if I wanted to? No. So, despite the warning, the authors desperate pleading to leave well enough alone, I picked up the book and continued. He had written more, he knew there was more to the story and knew I wouldn’t be able to leave it there. Not after I had come so far. It was like asking Roland to go no further once he reached the door to the tower. To stop, and simply be content that he had, at last, reached it.
Just like Roland, though- I could not. I continued on. And just like Roland, I should not have. The betrayal was infinite. The heartbreak, collosal. After 15 years of following this journey, the cut is deep, the scar will not fade.