Ian, I’m falling.
On the horizontal timeline, you pass away as it moves forward, and I fall.
Ian, hold my name and carry it away.
When I left, you called out to me, and I became entangled with you.
I can see it moving farther and farther away from me, as I get closer and closer to you.
Ian, my days are collapsing unto themselves.
I fall towards the unknown, pulling my timeline together, from beginning to end.
The first kiss and the following ones are becoming closer and closer together, and each parting becomes more and more distinct.
Ian, will you forget me?
My life will become like lead and weigh down unto the timeline, and the possibilities I create only exist in front of my eyes.
And the weight of our memories pull me deeply, unceasing.
Ian, remember to carry my name close to you.
Your breath travels, contaminated with fragments of existence, and I become aware that I am alive.
At the end of my life, only a single scene will remain, and I will remain alive within it, falling downwards.
We were so young back then.
On the dining table, your flower vase is placed, tulips blooming inside. I believe that, within a moment, the flower vase will disappear, our lives will end, and within a million years, the flower vase will roll to the side and shatter to pieces on the ground. And there will surely be a day when we have an hour to watch time slowly move forwards.
Ian, please forget me.
The past moves towards me, and the future constantly retreats. I saw him kissing your lips, which to this day remain warm; I saw him wearing a ring, which has now returned to my hand. I will cease to be, and all time will belong to this moment.
Ian, do not wonder where this name comes from, and do not puzzle over why only a single scene remains within the memories. Moving forwards, you will pass away, and cease to exist with the heat death of the universe.
I continue to fall, and accidentally knock over the flower vase.