Have you had the experience of being absorbed in a story, and everything seems to be going wrong, events winding quickly to a sad conclusion, and then you realize that there are a hundred pages or more in your right hand, still to be read? The story can't possibly end where it seems it will, and you are relieved to have the reassurance and a bit irked to be pulled out of the story and unable to just experience the tension and uncertainty in the plot.
Well, I would really love to have that feeling about my own story right now. I can accept that this is what my life looks like now. I can bear the losses and the struggle and the sometimes wretchedness, but I can't bear to think that this is the story on the last few pages. I need a few hundred more. It would be so much easier to breathe if I could know that.
