my human condition

People are like characters. People go through this journey of life as their very own story. The stories of people in everyday life are not always written and some people write one out that really shouldn’t be published, but nonetheless we all live our very own story. And like stories they are full of characters that come in and out of our lives. Some leave by death and some through a parting of ways because the relationships just don’t work. Others ebb away through distance and time. Some come back and step in for those short scenes. And yet others, like in my own story, leave for no apparent reason at all.
It apparently is not good writing for characters to just fall out of the story. It leaves more questions than answers and really, that is the truth of reality. People leave and everyone wants an explanation despite the fact that none exist. Characters are present for a short time. They live and they die and they disappear within the pages. They have their own story in a book meant for one.
My story is full of faces I remember and never see again. I see bits and pieces of their lives go in and out at a very far distance. It is not for lack of love that I move one way and they another. It is only the simple reality of a person’s story. It happens.
So, when my characters begin to disappear with no explanation, people can say it is bad writing, as some have done in the past, but I call it truth. It happens. It has happened to me and there is no way to uncover or recite the truth in a way that anyone really likes. Usually fiction is supposed to suspend reality, but then that also hinders the human experience and the human condition. And after all, I can really only write under the conditions I have experienced.