For a brief moment, I thought I knew the ending. The moment of realization past, an opportunity lost. Gia in the asylum, succumbing to actual hysteria as she imagined Him in the corners of her room but it was no longer true—He was no longer with her, as was His end of the agreement should she make it through the night on her own. Or that she had imagined Him as any child would image a friend when they're lonely and neglected; despite her vicious fight to prove otherwise, she eventually came to realize it was all in her head and the stay in the hospital was needed; she was actually crazy. A painful, gut-twisting finish that usually leaves me satisfied although incredibly forlorn and cold. It's the new trope. A bad ending. The one we know is coming, that we anticipate, because that's the cruel hand of reality that we've all come to know.
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While I love a "no one gets what they want in the end" finale—and I would have sang praise for such here all the same—I always desperately long for that good, desired ending. The one that makes a story true escapism and you feel giddy at the end of it all. This was just that, and more.
You're a great writer! I'm so glad your work found me. I absolutely love your storytelling!