She was the one I loved most, and her secret nickname was “My Bridge to Life”.

“Love?” As contradicting it is to say , this story is not a romantic drama!

I could only describe us like this:

Our connection at the start was a thread.
Every time I made a crack on you, the bridge, a bead was given as an apology.
As they increased, it became a bracelet.
Bracelets don’t last; that's because beads are heavy on the thread.
Now, the bead’s beauty covers up the ripping thread.
I overlooked that what I gifted you could’ve been unrepairable while praying for it to be everlasting.

Praying gets nowhere, though.

The beads overflowed,
the thread snapped,
and all that’s left is to be dumped in the trash.

Prior to this, the genie asked why I wanted a time machine. I gave him a brief answer, but honestly I would’ve used it to die before I met her.