Not every story has an ending you can be proud of.

I know that now, more than I’d ever known it before. Not everything will turn out okay, and not every conflict ends when the good guys win. There’s so much more than that in life that the simple black and white of good and evil becomes a naïve memory from the underdeveloped concepts of childhood. Sometimes, you can try your hardest, you can give it everything you have and beyond, break yourself, and even die for your cause, but things just fall apart. It’s the way things are. I wonder now if this is how those ‘bad guys’ feel whenever they lose in a story. Did they believe in what they were doing, or did they know it was wrong? Did it matter as much to them when they saw it all crumble around them?

Hard to tell… I don’t think a ‘bad guy’ who ever sat down to write their story made themselves out to be a ‘bad guy’.

I suppose I can’t call this ending good, or even really an ending. It just is. Some people aren’t satisfied, most feel a great loss of something that was important to them, and others have to rebuild from scratch. I don’t think anyone is happy, and I’m not so presumptuous anymore to say that I’m the unhappiest of all. I tried; I know that. Maybe I could have put more effort into it, but unless there’s a way to change the past that I haven’t discovered, I guess we’ll never know.

When it all comes down to it, I’m just going to move on. Maybe, just maybe, you might catch a glimpse of me, but you can be sure you’ll never hear me. And you definitely won’t recognize me. Why? Because I won’t look like myself. Just take that for what it is and ask no questions. It’s better that way for us all.

My name is Razor, and this was my story.