The Rest of the Story

“Make of that, what you may.”

The phrase I use to end most of my posts, is the same phrase I used when telling ‘stories’ in public. There is no firm moral, there is no passion play. Often the tale ends with unspoken questions begging to be answered. But as much as I enjoy writing these slices of my thoughts, I find it interesting to see what happens after they leave me.

I’ve had a post, written in the midst of a vicious emotional surge where I poured out how broken I am, bring another to tears with needed closure.

I’ve had my phrases used as a slogan promoting the rights of the individual.

I’ve been lambasted for writing in a derogatory manner, the reader thoroughly incensed as if I had singled her out by name just to insult her.

Inspired words, originally meant for me but shared because the insight hidden in the syllables, have been shared and spread by others that felt like the post was originally written for them.

I’ve learned, since I started sharing my stories, dreams, and madness with all, that the story often doesn’t end when I click “Publish”. It is only my chapter of it that has come to an end. Readers are taking my closing phrase to heart, and adding on to the story. As the story lives on, it grows, it increases, it becomes something more than I had imagined.

I wonder, if the gods of creation, those forces that set about the events and reactions that would lead to the rise of humanity, have that same awe when reading the stories of our triumphs, and trepidation when reading the stories of our callousness.

Does the story, now written and released have any obligation to the writer that penned it? What happens when the rest of the story turns out differently than what we imagined?

Make of that, what you may.

(Inspired by, and written for, Sunday Scribblings #312: “The Rest of the Story“.)