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Epilogue: The Truth

“This is the end. I must say, this is the best experience I’ve ever had. Even if it was something out of my imagination, it’s still something I can keep inside my memories. Even if I didn’t genuinely feel it, see it, or hear it. I thank them. For everything.”

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Maria wakes after an exhausting night, with the journal by her hands, she feels the same after every time she wakes up, empty, lost, ashamed, but also almost everyday, she meets someone new. Strangers who helped her continue her path, strangers that proved her that you can be happy or sad, angry and even lose hope, only if you believed it. She learned new things with her new friends, she learned some values that helped along her way. She never knew that she could do these things she thinks unimaginable.

Maria got used to the new friends she meets along her path, she got used to people strangely ringing her bell or knocking on her door. For her, it feels different if she doesn’t get a visitor but that all changed after she finished reading that book she found in her new house when she moved in. Everything changed when she found out, the truth.

She decided to take one last peek at the notebook. She knew it was over, but she wanted to look back at it. She started flipping pages once again, all too familiar with how each page felt. She got attached to it, and she didn’t even realize it.

But then, she stumbled upon a page that looked unfamiliar. Did she miss it? No, she didn’t. She could’ve sworn that she read each page and she was sure of it. It was a letter. A message. For whom? For her? She couldn’t resist any longer.

My dear Maria,

I guess it’s time for you to know the truth. I am thankful and more sorry for I have greatly inconvenienced you. I believe that you’ve been waiting for this for such a long time, and here you shall have it. You set me free, and now I shall set you free as well.

I suffer from Schizophrenia, I cannot identify which is made by my imagination from what is really happening. I can see people that no one else can see. People say that I am weird, that I am crazy. I am an outcast. People do not like the way I act, so nobody tried to understand me.

Everybody that you met were my old friends. Don’t expect them to come back, for they were all a part of me. All of them were sent to you to make you understand who I was, what I felt. For me to be free, I needed someone who would, and I chose you. They might not be real, but they taught you real lessons and sent you real messages.

But now, I ask you for one more thing. A favor. Please find my wife. I know she is still out there. Please go to her, and tell her everything. Explain to her what I was. I couldn’t and I still regret it. I was scared because I might hurt her. But now that you understand, please explain it to her. She misses me so. It is one thing I ask from you.

Until we meet again.
George

At this point, Maria was sitting on the edge of her bed, confused, and in tears. She closed the notebook, lied down and let everything crash down on her. She didn’t quite get it, but wished she did. She wanted to know more. She had so many questions to ask.

She was angry. How dare he let her go through all that and even ask a favor from her? Who was he to do that?

As she thought and thought, she closed her eyes. She closed her eyes hoping it was just a bad dream.

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As I cleaned up, one fine day in summer after work, I noticed someone, reading the journal on a rocking chair who was different than the strangers I had met. The way I saw it was different. It was a man. It was like I couldn't see the man at all, but I did. This stranger felt different. This man felt familiar.