If time were to flow backward, I would descend upon the world at my own funeral. The air would be thick with solemnity, as friends and family bowed their heads in silent mourning, tears falling onto the yellowed wreaths. And I, walking out from that stillness, would return, carrying all the memories of this life.
I remember who I once was, and I remember those fleeting moments. Every argument, every laugh, even every tear I shed, now serves as a guide, pointing to the steps I take in this moment. I had lost so much, but as I return now, I realize none of that matters anymore. The pain and sorrow of the past have become nothing but distant echoes. The grief of others remains, but I no longer need the mourning they have prepared for me, for I have come back, bringing with me the wisdom and tranquility of what I once lived through.
At the end of that funeral, I stand among the crowd, quietly observing the loved ones and friends I once had. Perhaps they never imagined that in this moment, I would return to the world. Time has reversed, bringing me the chance I never had. There is no regret, no sorrow—only a deep sense of release.