Yeah, I'm a writer. Not much of one, but other people say differently.

[ He still thinks he's a far cry from being Steven King or any of the greats; maybe her Alan feels the same way. He remembers having lofty dreams of writing great novels and feeling proud of his writing, and while he's not not proud of his books, part of him thinks that dream he had when he first started is a little out of reach now. ]

Maybe, but I'd still like to help. I'm not your Alan, but I can still help somehow. Even if all you do is tell me to take out the garbage.

[ He focuses back on her when she makes that gesture. He sees no reason why he shouldn't be up front with her about who he is and what similarities he has with her Alan. ]

Yeah... I thought what I was seeing was just inspiration, ideas that came from my imagination or things I was seeing or noticing, but it's more than that. It just took me some time to really see it.

[ Then, Alan's expression darkens. ]

Yeah, I know about the Lake. I know too much about it, and yet it seems like I don't know anything about it at all.

[ Then he shrugs. ]

Whether it's happened or not, I think this page means he still cares about you and wants to keep you safe.